impression he produced was poignant. Everybody felt that
something was wrong. I saw Yulia Mihailovna turn pale. The effect was
heightened by a trivial accident. After announcing that measures had
been taken, Lembke turned sharply and walked quickly towards the door,
but he had hardly taken two steps when he stumbled over a rug, swerved
forward, and almost fell. For a moment he stood still, looked at the rug
at which he had stumbled, and, uttering aloud "Change it!" went out of
the room. Yulia Mihailovna ran after him. Her exit was followed by an
uproar, in which it was difficult to distinguish anything. Some said he
was "deranged," others that he was "liable to attacks"; others put their
fingers to their forehead; Lyamshin, in the corner, put his two fingers
above his forehead. People hinted at some domestic difficulties--in a
whisper, of course. No one took up his hat; all were waiting. I don't
know what Yulia Mihailovna managed to do, but five minutes later she
came back, doing her utmost to appear composed. She replied evasively
that Andrey Antonovitch was rather excited, but that it meant nothing,
that he had been like that from a child, that she knew "much better,"
and that the fete next day would certainly cheer him up. Then followed a
few flattering words to Stepan Trofimovitch simply from civility, and a
loud invitation to the members of the committee to open the meeting now,
at once. Only then, all who were not members of the committee prepared
to go home; but the painful incidents of this fatal day were not yet
over.

I noticed at the moment when Nikolay Stavrogin came in that Liza looked
quickly and intently at him and was for a long time unable to take her
eyes off him--so much so that at last it attracted attention. I saw
Mavriky Nikolaevitch bend over her from behind; he seemed to mean to
whisper something to her, but evidently changed his intention and drew
himself up quickly, looking round at every one with a guilty air. Nikolay
Vsyevolodovitch too excited curiosity; his face was paler than usual and
there was a strangely absent-minded look in his eyes. After flinging
his question at Stepan Trofimovitch he seemed to forget about him
altogether, and I really believe he even forgot to speak to his hostess.
He did not once look at Liza--not because he did not want to, but I am
certain because he did not notice her either. And suddenly, after the
brief silence that followed Yulia Mihailovna's invitation to op