"Give me your arm," I said to the girl. "And he won't dare to annoy us further."
She took my arm without a word, still trembling with excitement and terror. Oh, obtrusive gentleman! How I blessed you at that moment! I stole a glance at her, she was very charming and darkI had guessed right.
On her black eyelashes there still glistened a tearfrom her recent terror or her former griefI don't know. But there was already a gleam of a smile on her lips. She too stole a glance at me, faintly blushed and looked down.
"There, you see; why did you drive me away? If I had been here, nothing would have happened."
"But I did not know you; I thought that you too."
"Why, do you know me now?"
"A little! Here, for instance, why are you trembling?"
"Oh, you are right at the first guess!" I answered, delighted that my girl had intelligence; that is never out of place in company with beauty. "Yes, from the first glance you have guessed the sort of man you have to do with. Precisely; I am shy with women, I am agitated, I don't deny it, as much so as you were a minute ago when that gentleman alarmed you. I am in some alarm now. It's like a dream, and I never guessed even in my sleep that I should ever talk with any woman."
"What? Really?"
"Yes; if my arm trembles, it is because it has never been held by a pretty little hand like yours. I am a complete stranger to women; that is, I have never been used to them. You see, I am alone. I don't even know how to talk to them. Here, I don't know now whether I have not said something silly to you! Tell me frankly; I assure you beforehand that I am not quick to take offence?"
"No, nothing, nothing, quite the contrary. And if you insist on my speaking frankly, I will tell you that women like such timidity; and if you want to know more, I like it too, and I won't drive you away till I get home."
"You will make me," I said, breathless with delight, "lose my timidity, and then farewell to all my chances."
"Chances! What chancesof what? That's not so nice."
"I beg your pardon, I am sorry, it was a slip of the tongue; but how can you expect one at such a moment to have no desire."
"To be liked, eh?"
"Well, yes; but do, for goodness' sake, be kind. Think what I am! Here, I am twentysix and I have never seen any one. How can I speak well, tactfully, and to the point? It will seem better to you when I have told you everything openly. I don't know how to be silent when my heart is speaking. Well, never mind. Believe me, not one woman, never, never! No acquaintance of any sort! And I do nothing but dream every day that at last I shall meet some one. Oh, if only you knew how often I have been in love in that way."
"How? With whom?"
"Why, with no one, with an ideal, with the one I dream of in my sleep. I make up regular romances in my dreams. Ah, you don't know me! It's true, of course, I have met two or three women, but what sort of women were they? They were all landladies, that. But I shall make you laugh if I tell you that I have several times thought of speaking, just simply speaking, to some aristocratic lady in the street, when she is alone, I need hardly say; speaking to her, of course, timidly, respectfully, passionately; telling her that I am perishing in solitude, begging her not to send me away; saying that I have no chance of making the acquaintance of any woman; impressing upon her that it is a positive duty for a woman not to repulse so timid a prayer from such a luckless man as me. That, in fact, all I ask is, that she should say two or three sisterly words with sympathy, should not repulse me at first sight; should take me on trust and listen to what I say; should laugh at me if she likes, encourage me, say two words to me, only two words, even though we never meet again afterwards!But you are laughing; however, that is why I am telling you."
"Don't be vexed; I am only laughing at your being your own enemy, and if you had tried you would have succeeded, perhaps, even though it had been in the street; the simpler the better. No kindhearted woman, unless she were stupid or, still more, vexed about something at the moment, could bring herself to send you away without those two words which you ask for so timidly. But what am I saying? Of course she would take you for a madman. I was judging by myself; I know a good deal about other people's lives."
"Oh, thank you," I cried; "you don't know what you have done for me now!"
"I am glad! I am glad! But tell me how did you find out that I was the sort of woman with whom well, whom you think worthy of attention and friendship in fact, not a landlady as you say? What made you decide to come up to me?"
"What made me?But you were alone; that gentleman was too insolent; it's night. You must admit that it was a duty."
"No, no; I mean before, on the other sideyou know you meant to come up to me."
"On the other side? Really I don't know how to answer; I am afraid to. Do you know I have been happy today? I walked along singing; I went out into the country; I have never had such happy moments. You perhaps it was my fancy. Forgive me for referring to it; I fancied you were crying, and I could not bear to hear it it made my heart ache. Oh, my goodness! Surely I might be troubled about you? Surely there was no harm in feeling brotherly compassion for you. I beg your pardon, I said compassion. Well, in short, surely you would not be offended at my involuntary impulse to go up to you?"
"Stop, that's enough, don't talk of it," said the girl, looking down, and pressing my hand. "It's my fault for having spoken of it; but I am glad I was not mistaken in you. But here I am home; I must go down this turning, it's two steps from here. Goodbye, thank you!"
"Surely surely you don't mean that we shall never see each other again?Surely this is not to be the end?"
"You see," said the girl, laughing, "at first you only wanted two words, and now. However, I won't say anything perhaps we shall meet."
"I shall come here tomorrow," I said. "Oh, forgive me, I am already making demands."
"Yes, you are not very patient you are almost insisting."
"Listen, listen!" I interrupted her. "Forgive me if I tell you something else. I tell you what, I can't help coming here tomorrow, I am a dreamer; I have so little real life that I look upon such moments as this now, as so rare, that I cannot help going over such moments again in my dreams. I shall be dreaming of you all night, a whole week, a whole year. I shall certainly come here tomorrow, just here to this place, just at the same hour, and I shall be happy remembering today. This place is dear to me already. I have already two or three such places in Petersburg. I once shed tears over memories like you. Who knows, perhaps you were weeping ten minutes ago over some memory. But, forgive me, I have forgotten myself again; perhaps you have once been particularly happy here."
"Very good," said the girl, "perhaps I will come here tomorrow, too, at ten o'clock. I see that I can't forbid you. The fact is, I have to be here; don't imagine that I am making an appointment with you; I tell you beforehand that I have to be here on my own account. But well, I tell you straight out, I don't mind if you do come. To begin with, something unpleasant might happen as it did today, but never mind that. In short, I should simply like to see you to say two words to you. Only, mind, you must not think the worse of me now! Don't think I make appointments so lightly. I shouldn't make it except that. But let that be my secret! Only a compact beforehand."
"A compact! Speak, tell me, tell me all beforehand; I agree to anything, I am ready for anything," I cried delighted. "I answer for myself, I will be obedient, respectful you know me."
"It's just because I do know you that I ask you to come tomorrow," said the girl, laughing. "I know you perfectly. But mind you will come on the condition, in the first place (only be good, do what I askyou see, I speak frankly), you won't fall in love with me. That's impossible, I assure you. I am ready for friendship; here's my hand. But you mustn't fall in love with me, I beg you!"
"I swear," I cried, gripping her hand.
"Hush, don't swear, I know you are ready to flare up like gunpowder. Don't think ill of me for saying so. If only you knew. I, too, have no one to whom I can say a word, whose advice I can ask. Of course, one does not look for an adviser in the street; but you are an exception. I know you as though we had been friends for twenty years. You won't deceive me, will you?"
"You will see the only thing is, I don't know how I am going to survive the next twentyfour hours."
"Sleep soundly. Goodnight, and remember that I have trusted you already. But you exclaimed so nicely just now, 'Surely one can't be held responsible for every feeling, even for brotherly sympathy!' Do you know, that was so nicely said, that the idea struck me at once, that I might confide in you?"
"For God's sake do; but about what? What is it?"
"Wait till tomorrow. Meanwhile, let that be a secret. So much the better for you; it will give it a faint flavour of romance. Perhaps I will tell you tomorrow, and perhaps not. I will talk to you a little more beforehand; we will get to know each other better."
"Oh yes, I will tell you all about myself tomorrow! But what has happened? It is as though a miracle had befallen me. My God, where am I? Come, tell me aren't you glad that you were not angry and did not drive me away at the first moment, as any other woman would have done? In two minutes you have made me happy for ever. Yes, happy; who knows, perhaps, you have reconciled me with myself, solved my doubts! Perhaps such moments come upon me. But there I will tell you all about it tomorrow, you shall know everything, everything."
"Very well, I consent; you shall begin."
"Agreed."
"Goodbye till tomorrow!"
"Till tomorrow!"
And we parted. I walked about all night; I could not make up my mind to go home. I was so happy. Tomorrow!
II
Second Night
"Well, so you have survived!" she said, pressing both my hands.
II
Second Night
"Well, so you have survived!" she said, pressing both my hands.
"I've been here for the last two hours; you don't know what a state I have been in all day."
"I know, I know. But to business. Do you know why I have come? Not to talk nonsense, as I did yesterday. I tell you what, we must behave more sensibly in future. I thought a great deal about it last night."
"In what wayin what must we be more sensible? I am ready for my part; but, really, nothing more sensible has happened to me in my life than this, now."