haste in a voice that quivered and faltered, "I say, Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch, let's drop personalities once for all. Of course, you
can despise me as much as you like if it amuses you--but we'd better
dispense with personalities for a time, hadn't we?"

"All right," Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch assented.

Pyotr Stepanovitch grinned, tapped his knee with his hat, shifted from
one leg to the other, and recovered his former expression.

"Some people here positively look upon me as your rival with Lizaveta
Nikolaevna, so I must think of my appearance, mustn't I," he laughed.
"Who was it told you that though? H'm. It's just eight o'clock; well I
must be off. I promised to look in on Varvara Petrovna, but I shall
make my escape. And you go to bed and you'll be stronger to-morrow. It's
raining and dark, but I've a cab, it's not over safe in the streets here
at night.... Ach, by the way, there's a run-away convict from Siberia,
Fedka, wandering about the town and the neighbourhood. Only fancy, he
used to be a serf of mine, and my papa sent him for a soldier fifteen
years ago and took the money for him. He's a very remarkable person."

"You have been talking to him?" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch scanned him.

"I have. He lets me know where he is. He's ready for anything, anything,
for money of course, but he has convictions, too, of a sort, of course.
Oh yes, by the way, again, if you meant anything of that plan, you
remember, about Lizaveta Nikolaevna, I tell you once again, I too am a
fellow ready for anything of any kind you like, and absolutely at
your service.... Hullo! are you reaching for your stick. Oh no... only
fancy... I thought you were looking for your stick."

Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch was looking for nothing and said nothing.

But he had risen to his feet very suddenly with a strange look in his
face.

"If you want any help about Mr. Gaganov either," Pyotr Stepanovitch
blurted out suddenly, this time looking straight at the paper-weight,
"of course I can arrange it all, and I'm certain you won't be able to
manage without me."

He went out suddenly without waiting for an answer, but thrust his
head in at the door once more. "I mention that," he gabbled hurriedly,
"because Shatov had no right either, you know, to risk his life last
Sunday when he attacked you, had he? I should be glad if you would make
a note of that." He disappeared again without waiting for an answer.

IV

Perhaps he imagined, as he made his exi