hame, and deadness is over, isn't it? Let us work hard and
begin a new life, the three of us, yes, yes!... Oh, by the way, what
shall we call him, Marie?"

"What shall we call him?" she repeated with surprise, and there was a
sudden look of terrible grief in her face.

She clasped her hands, looked reproachfully at Shatov and hid her face
in the pillow.

"Marie, what is it?" he cried with painful alarm.

"How could you, how could you... Oh, you ungrateful man!"

"Marie, forgive me, Marie... I only asked you what his name should be. I
don't know...."

"Ivan, Ivan." She raised her flushed and tear-stained face. "How could
you suppose we should call him by another _horrible_ name?"

"Marie, calm yourself; oh, what a nervous state you are in!"

"That's rude again, putting it down to my nerves. I bet that if I'd said
his name was to be that other... horrible name, you'd have agreed
at once and not have noticed it even! Oh, men, the mean ungrateful
creatures, they are all alike!"

A minute later, of course, they were reconciled. Shatov persuaded her to
have a nap. She fell asleep but still kept his hand in hers; she waked
up frequently, looked at him, as though afraid he would go away, and
dropped asleep again.

Kirillov sent an old woman "to congratulate them," as well as some hot
tea, some freshly cooked cutlets, and some broth and white bread for
Marya Ignatyevna. The patient sipped the broth greedily, the old woman
undid the baby's wrappings and swaddled it afresh, Marie made Shatov
have a cutlet too.

Time was passing. Shatov, exhausted, fell asleep himself in his chair,
with his head on Marie's pillow. So they were found by Arina Prohorovna,
who kept her word. She waked them up gaily, asked Marie some necessary
questions, examined the baby, and again forbade Shatov to leave her.
Then, jesting at the "happy couple," with a shade of contempt and
superciliousness she went away as well satisfied as before.

It was quite dark when Shatov waked up. He made haste to light the
candle and ran for the old woman; but he had hardly begun to go down the
stairs when he was struck by the sound of the soft, deliberate steps of
some one coming up towards him. Erkel came in.

"Don't come in," whispered Shatov, and impulsively seizing him by the
hand he drew him back towards the gate. "Wait here, I'll come directly,
I'd completely forgotten you, completely! Oh, how you brought it back!"

He was in such haste that he did n