Halting in the doorway, Dimitri glanced at me, and the expression of
fury and pain which had sat for a moment on his countenance suddenly
gave place to such a boyish, kindly, affectionate, yet ashamed,
expression that I felt sorry for him, and reconsidered my intention of
leaving him to himself. He said nothing, but for a long time paced the
room in silence, occasionally glancing at me with the same deprecatory
expression as before. Then he took his notebook from the table, wrote
something in it, took off his jacket and folded it carefully, and,
stepping into the corner where the ikon hung, knelt down and began to
say his prayers, with his large white hands folded upon his breast. So
long did he pray that Vasika had time to bring a mattress and spread it,
under my whispered directions, on the floor. Indeed, I had undressed
and laid myself down upon the mattress before Dimitri had finished. As I
contemplated his slightly rounded back and the soles of his feet (which
somehow seemed to stick out in my direction in a sort of repentant
fashion whenever he made his obeisances), I felt that I liked him more
than ever, and debated within myself whether or not I should tell him
all I had been fancying concerning our respective sisters. When he had
finished his prayers, he lay down upon the bed near me, and, propping
himself upon his elbow, looked at me in silence, with a kindly, yet
abashed, expression. Evidently he found it difficult to do this, yet
meant thus to punish himself. Then I smiled and returned his gaze, and
he smiled back at me.

"Why do you not tell me that my conduct has been abominable?" he said.
"You have been thinking so, have you not?"

"Yes," I replied; and although it was something quite different which
had been in my mind, it now seemed to me that that was what I had been
thinking. "Yes, it was not right of you, nor should I have expected it
of you." It pleased me particularly at that moment to call him by the
familiar second person singular. "But how are your teeth now?" I added.

"Oh, much better. Nicolinka, my friend," he went on, and so feelingly
that it sounded as though tears were standing in his eyes, "I know
and feel that I am bad, but God sees how I try to be better, and how I
entreat Him to make me so. Yet what am I to do with such an unfortunate,
horrible nature as mine? What am I to do with it? I try to keep myself
in hand and to rule myself, but suddenly it becomes impossible for me
to do so