Chapter 15 "Duel" XIV

fourteen "But now I'm going to play Vent. ... They're waiting for me," Laevsky said. "Good-bye, gentlemen." "Wait a minute, I'll go with you," said Nadezhda Fyodorovna, taking his arm. They bid farewell to everyone and left.Kirilin also took his leave, saying that he happened to be on the same road, so he walked side by side with them. "What will happen will happen," thought Nadezhda Fyodorovna. "Let it go. . . . " She felt as if all those bad memories were coming out of her head, walking beside her in the dark, breathing heavily.She herself, like a fly in an inkwell, scrambled along the road, blackening Laevsky's sides and arms.She thought to herself: if Kirilin did something wrong, it was not him who was responsible for it, but herself.You know, there was a time in the past when no man could speak to her like Kirilin, and she herself had torn that time like a thread and irreparably ruined it, so it must be done. Who is in charge?Fascinated by lust, she began to smile at a man she didn't know at all, presumably because he was well-built and tall.After two trysts he bored her and she left him.At this time, she thought to herself: "Just because of this, doesn't he have the right to manipulate her at will?"

"Here, my dear, I'm leaving you," said Laevsky, concentrating. "Ilya Mihalitch will take you home." He nodded to Kirilin, and quickly crossed the avenue, crossed the street, and went to Sheshkovsky's house, where the windows were brightly lit.Then they could hear him closing the door. "Allow me to be clear with you," Killilin began. "I'm not a child, and I'm not some Archkasov, or Rachkasov, Zachkasov. . . . I want you to pay serious attention to this!" Nadezhda Fyodorovna's heart was pounding.She didn't answer anything. "I at first interpreted your sudden change of attitude as flirting," Killerin went on, "but now I see that you have no idea what to do with decent people.

You simply meant to play with me, as you did with that little boy, that Armenian.But I am a decent man, and I want to be treated like a decent man.So, I have you covered. . . . " "I feel sad . . . " said Nadezhda Fyodorovna, weeping, turning away to hide her tears. "I'm sad too, but so what?" Kirilin was silent for a moment, then said clearly and firmly: "I repeat, madam: if you don't see me today, I'm going to make a mess today." "Leave me alone today," said Nadezhda Fyodorovna, who could hardly hear her own voice, which had become so pitiful and soft.

"I've got to teach you a lesson. . . . Pardon my rude tone, I must teach you a lesson. Yes, I'm sorry, but I have to teach you a lesson. I ask for two appointments: today and tomorrow. The day after tomorrow you You can be completely free, where you love, who you love to be with, it's up to you. Today and tomorrow." Nadezhda Fyodorovna went to her door and stopped. "Let me go!" she whispered, trembling all over, seeing nothing in the darkness but his white uniform. "You're right, I'm a bad woman, . . . I'm wrong, but let me go. . . . I beg you, . . . " she said, shuddering at his cold hand. , "I beg you..." "Oh!" Kirillin sighed. "Oh! It's not in my plan to let you go. I just want to teach you a lesson, so that you can understand. Besides, madam, I don't trust women very much."

"I feel sad..." Nadyezhda Fyodorovna listened to the sound of the calm sea, looked at the starry sky, and wished to have all this done, to get rid of this damned life with its sea, its stars, its men, its fever. ... "Just not in my house, ..." she said coldly. "Take me somewhere else." "Then let's go to the Mulidov's. There's nothing better than that." "What is that place?" "Near the old fence." She walked briskly down the street, then turned a corner into an alley leading up the hill.it's dark.Here and there across the road there were pale bands of light, from the lighted windows inside.She felt like a fly, now falling into the inkwell, now crawling out into the light.Killilin followed her.He stumbled at a place, almost fell, and couldn't help laughing.

"He's drunk . . . " thought Nadyezhda Fyodorovna. "It's ok, . . . it's ok. . . . let it be." Atchmianov soon took leave of everyone, and went after Nadezhda Fyodorovna, intending to ask her to go rowing for a while.He went to her house and looked in through the fence: the windows were open and the lights were off. "Nadezhda Fyodorovna!" he called to her. A minute passed.He called again. "Who is it?" Olga's voice sounded. "Nadezhda, is Fyodorovna at home?" "No. She hasn't come back yet." "Strange, . . . very strange," thought Atchmianov, feeling very disturbed. "She came home just now. . . . " He walked along the avenue, then down the street, and looked in the Szekovsky's window.Laevsky took off his coat, sat down at the table, and looked intently at the cards.

"Strange, strange..." muttered Atchmianov, feeling ashamed at the thought of Laevsky's illness just now. "Since she is not at home, where has she been?" He went again to Nadyezhda Fyodorovna's house and looked at the blackened windows. "This is a deception, a deception..." he thought to himself, remembering that she had met him at Bichugov's house this afternoon and promised to go rowing with him this evening. In the house where Killilin lived, the windows were dark, and on a bench by the gate sat a policeman, asleep.Atchmianov glanced at the window, at the policeman, and understood everything.He decided to go home, and went on, but came near Nadezhda Fyodorovna's house.Here he sat down on a bench and took off his hat.He was jealous and wronged, his head was hot.

The churches in the city ring the hours only twice a day: at noon and at midnight.Soon after it had struck midnight, there was the sound of hurried footsteps. "Then go to Mulidov's tomorrow evening!" Atchmianov heard someone speaking, and recognized Kirilin's voice. "Eight o'clock. Good-bye!" Nadezhda Fyodorovna appeared near the fence.She did not notice Atchmianov sitting on the bench, but she walked past him like a shadow, opened the door, left it open, and went into the main room.She went to her room, lit a candle, undressed quickly, but instead of going to bed, knelt down before a chair, put her arms around it, and rested her forehead on it.

Laevsky came home at two o'clock.