e to him,
do you think? We ought to comfort him . . . a kind word, you know."

Groholsky heaved a deep sigh, shook his head, and sank into an easy
chair exhausted by painful reflection. Leaning his head on his fists
he fell to musing. Judging from his face, his musings were painful.

"I am going to bed," said Liza; "it's time."

Liza went to her own room, undressed, and dived under the bedclothes.
She used to go to bed at ten o'clock and get up at ten. She was
fond of her comfort.

She was soon in the arms of Morpheus. Throughout the whole night
she had the most fascinating dreams. . . . She dreamed whole romances,
novels, Arabian Nights. . . . The hero of all these dreams was the
gentleman in the top hat, who had caused her to utter a shriek that
evening.

The gentleman in the top hat was carrying her off from Groholsky,
was singing, was beating Groholsky and her, was flogging the boy
under the window, was declaring his love, and driving her off in
the chaise. . . . Oh, dreams! In one night, lying with one's eyes
shut, one may sometimes live through more than ten years of happiness
. . . . That night Liza lived through a great variety of experiences,
and very happy ones, even in spite of the beating.

Waking up between six and seven, she flung on her clothes, hurriedly
did her hair, and without even putting on her Tatar slippers with
pointed toes, ran impulsively on to the verandah. Shading her eyes
from the sun with one hand, and with the other holding up her
slipping clothes, she gazed at the villa opposite. Her face beamed
. . . . There could be no further doubt it was he.

On the verandah in the villa opposite there was a table in front
of the glass door. A tea service was shining and glistening on the
table with a silver samovar at the head. Ivan Petrovitch was sitting
at the table. He had in his hand a glass in a silver holder, and
was drinking tea. He was drinking it with great relish. That fact
could be deduced from the smacking of his lips, the sound of which
reached Liza's ears. He was wearing a brown dressing-gown with black
flowers on it. Massive tassels fell down to the ground. It was the
first time in her life Liza had seen her husband in a dressing-gown,
and such an expensive-looking one.

Mishutka was sitting on one of his knees, and hindering him from
drinking his tea. The child jumped up and down and tried to clutch
his papa's shining lip. After every three or four sips the father
bent down