Chapter 28 Chapter 11

But as soon as I got back into the house, my head went dizzy and I fell in the middle of the room.I only remember that Yelena uttered a cry of surprise: she raised her hands and clapped her hands, and rushed over to support me.This is the last moment that remains in my memory... I woke up and found myself in bed.Yelena later told me that the doorman brought food just at that time, and she and he carried me to the sofa.I woke up several times and every time I saw Yelena leaning over my sympathetic Little faces with love and concern.But all this was in a trance, like in a dream, as if separated by a layer of fog, the lovely face of the poor little girl kept moving before my eyes when I was unconscious, like a phantom, like a painting; water for me

, Cover me with a quilt or sit in front of me, with a sad face, a look of fear, and smooth my hair with small hands from time to time.Once, I remember she gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.Another time, in the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly and saw There was a small table in front of me, and the small table was moved to the side of the sofa. A candle was burning on the table, and the candle had already blossomed. In the light of the candle, I saw Yelena's face pressed against my pillow, her pale face Mouth half open, put palm on own warm cheek , fell asleep in fear.In the morning, I was fully awake.The candles were completely burnt out, and the sun had risen, and its bright, rose-colored light was already dancing on the walls.Yelena was sitting on a chair by the table, with her tired little head bent across the table.

She was sleeping soundly on the left arm of her upper body, and I remember staring at her childish little face, even in sleep, it was full of a sad expression that didn't seem to belong to children, and a strange morbid beauty; pale, thin face, Long eyelashes, thick black hair casually tucked into a swear, hanging to one side.Her other arm rests on my pillow.I kissed the thin arm lightly, but the poor child did not wake up, only a faint A smile flitted across her pale lips.I looked at her, and looked at her, and fell asleep peacefully, a sleep which was so beneficial to my health.This time I barely slept until noon.I woke up feeling almost fully recovered.Only

It's my whole body that is limp and my limbs are weak, which means that I have been ill not long ago.This kind of sudden onset of neurological diseases, I have often suffered from it in the past.I know this disease very well.The disease usually recovers almost completely in one day and night, but in this day and night, the The disease seemed very serious and dangerous. It was almost noon.The first thing I saw was a valance hanging on a strap in the corner, which I bought yesterday.Yelena did it herself, and carved out a small corner for herself in the room.she sits by the stove , is boiling water.When she noticed that I was awake, she smiled happily and walked to me immediately.

"My dear child," I said, taking her hand, "you have nursed me all night. I did not know you had such a good heart." "How do you know that I watch over you; maybe I slept all night?" she asked, looking at me kindly and shyly, and at the same time mischievously, and blushing shyly because she said so. "I woke up several times and saw it. You didn't sleep until it was almost dawn." "Would you like some tea?" She interrupted me, as if it was difficult to continue this conversation, which is unavoidable for those who are pure-hearted and clean-hearted when people praise them for their kindness.

"Yes," I replied, "but did you have lunch yesterday?" "Didn't eat lunch, but dinner. The porter brought it. But don't talk, and lie still: you're not quite well," she added, bringing me tea and sitting down. on my bed. "Why lie still! But you can lie until dark, and when it gets dark I must go out. I must, Lenotchka." "Hmph, I'm sure! Who are you going to see? It's not the guest who came yesterday, is it?" "No, not to see him." "It would be nice not to see him. He upset you yesterday. Then go and see his daughter?"

"How do you know he has a daughter?" "I heard it all yesterday," she answered, lowering her eyes. Her brows were deeply furrowed, and her face was covered with dark clouds. ① Yelena's nickname. "He's a bad old man," she added later. "How do you know he is bad? On the contrary, he is a very kind person." "No, no; he's bad; I hear you," she answered enthusiastically. "What did you hear?" "He refuses to forgive his daughter..." "But he loved her. She was sorry for him, but he cared and suffered for her."

"Then why not forgive her? Now, even if she forgives, the daughter will not come back to him. " "What is that? Why?" "Because he doesn't deserve his daughter to love him," she replied enthusiastically. "It's better to let her leave him forever. It's better to let her go begging, and let him see his daughter begging and make him suffer." Her eyes were shining, and her face was flushed. "It seems that she didn't say that for nothing," I thought to myself. "You want to send me to his house, don't you?" she added after a moment's silence.

"Yes, Yelena." "No, I'd rather be a servant elsewhere." "Oh, what a bad thing you say, Lenotchka. What nonsense: who's going to hire you?" "Anyone who does rough work," she replied impatiently, her head drooping lower and lower, visibly agitated. "A rough man doesn't need a maid like you," I laughed. "Then hire the old lady." "With your temper, can you still serve the master and wife?" "Just this temper." The more excited she was, the stiffer her answer became. "You won't be able to take it."

"I can bear it. If you scold me, I will not fight back. If you hit me, you just keep silent. Let them fight it. If you just keep silent, you just don't cry. Don't cry, and you will piss them off." "What is the matter with you, Yelena! How much resentment you have in your heart; how proud you are! It shows that you have suffered a lot..." I got up and went to my big table.Yelena was still sitting on that sofa, looking at the ground thoughtfully, with her small hand holding the edge of the sofa.She said nothing. "Isn't she mad at me for saying that?" I thought.

I stood by the table, unconsciously flipping through the few books I brought back yesterday to write, and gradually immersed myself in reading.It often happens to me that I walk over to open a book, and just flip through it casually, but forget everything after reading it. "You keep writing and writing here, what are you writing about?" Yelena walked quietly to the table and asked with a timid smile. "Write anything, Lenotchka, write about everything. I'll be paid if I write." "write a report?" "No, not writing a report." So I tried my best to explain to her that I was describing all kinds of people and all kinds of things: when I finished writing, I would publish a book, which was called a novel.She listened with great curiosity. "Why, what you wrote is true?" "No, fiction." "Why are you making it up?" "I told you, you might as well read this book first; didn't you read it once. You can read, right?" "meeting." "That's all you need to know. I wrote this little book." "You wrote it? I must read it..." She seemed to have something in her heart that she really wanted to tell me, but it was obviously difficult to say, so she was very excited.There seemed to be some hidden meaning in her question. "Do you make a lot of money writing books?" she finally asked. "It depends on luck. Sometimes there is too much, and sometimes you can't write without a penny. It's hard work, Lenotchka." "Then you are not rich?" "Yes, I'm not rich." "Then I can work and help you..." She glanced at me quickly, her face flushed red, she lowered her eyes, then she took two steps closer to me, suddenly stretched out her hands to hug me, and squeezed her face tightly Tightly, tightly against my chest.i am surprised looking at her. "I like you . . . I'm not proud," she said. "Yesterday you said I was. No, no . . . I'm not like that . . . I like you. You alone love me . . . " But she was sobbing.A minute later, the tears were coming, and they were as violent as they had been in yesterday's attack.She fell on her knees before me and kissed my hands and feet... "You love me! . . . " she repeated, "and you alone, alone! . . . " She reached out and hugged my knees convulsively.The whole feeling which she had restrained for so long poured out at once like a dam, and I began to understand the strangeness of a heart which is temporarily pure and kept from showing. The stubbornness, and the more stubborn and inflexible, the stronger the desire to speak out, so all this finally broke out. At this time, the whole person suddenly devoted himself to this longing for love, and his heart was full of love. Gratitude, tears and all kinds of tenderness... … She wailed, and finally cried hysterically.With great difficulty, I opened my arms and held them.I picked her up and put her on the sofa.She buried her head in the pillow and cried for a long time, as if she was embarrassed to look up at me, but Her little hands gripped mine tightly, keeping mine close to her heart. She slowly quieted down, but still refused to look up at me.Twice, his eyes flicked across my face, with so much tenderness, so much timidity in those eyes that had never been revealed.Finally, she blushed and told me A sweet smile. "Are you feeling better?" I asked. "My Lenotchka is very affectionate, and you are a very pitiful child, aren't you?" "Not Lenotchka, no..." she whispered, her little face still avoiding me. "Not Lenotchka? How could it be?" "Nellie." "Nellie? Why must it be Nellie? However, the name sounds nice. Since you want to, I will call you that from now on." "That's what Mama calls me... No one ever called me that but her... And I don't want to be called that except Mama... But you can; I do... I will always love you, love forever..." "A loving and proud heart," I thought, "how hard it took me to get you to be... Nellie." But now I know that heart of hers will always be true to me, till the end. Never change. "I mean Nellie," I asked, as soon as she had calmed down, "didn't you just say that mother alone loved you and no one else? Could it be that your grandfather really didn't love you?" "do not love……" "But didn't you cry for him here, remember, on the stairs." She pondered for a while. "No, he doesn't love me...he's bad." There was a trace of pain on her face. "You can't be hard on him, Nellie, you know. He's lost his head, it seems. He died like a madman, too. Didn't I tell you how he died?" "Yes; but he didn't begin to be quite confused until the last month. He used to sit here all day, and if I didn't come to see him, he would sit for two days, three days in a row, neither eating nor drinking. But he was much better in the past." "When is the past?" "When my mother was not dead." "So you came to bring him food and drink, Nellie?" "Yes, I did." "Where did you get it, the Brenovas?" "No, I never take anything from the Brenovas," she said firmly, tremblingly. "Then where did you get it? Don't you have nothing?" Nellie was silent and pale; then she stared at me again, for a long while. "I'll beg for money in the street... I'll buy him a piece of bread and snuff when I get five kopeks..." "He let you go! Nellie! Nellie!" "At first I went by myself, without telling him. Later he found out, and urged me to go. I stood on the bridge, begging from passers-by, and he walked around beside the bridge, waiting for me; But as soon as he saw someone gave me money, he rushed to me Come here and snatch the money away, as if I wanted to hide the money and hide it from him, as if I didn't ask grandpa to sue grandma for him. " She let out a wry smile as she spoke. "It was all after Mama died," she added, "and that's when he became a complete madman." "Then he loves your mother very much? Why doesn't he live with her?" "No, he doesn't love...he's bad, he won't forgive her...just like the bad old man yesterday," she whispered, almost in a whisper, and grew paler and paler. I shivered.The opening scene of the whole novel flashed in my imagination.A poor woman died in the basement of the coffin maker's house. Her orphan sometimes visited her grandfather who cursed her mother; After the dog died, he was also dying in a food store! ... "You know, Azorka used to belong to Mama," said Nellie suddenly, smiling at a sudden memory of something from the past. "Grandpa used to love his mother very much. After her mother left him, only his mother's Azorka was left with him. So he That's why I like Azorka so much...he doesn't forgive mother, and when the dog dies, he dies too," Nellie added sternly, the smile disappearing from her face. "Nellie, what did he do in the past?" I asked after a moment's wait. "He used to be very rich... I don't know what he did," she replied, "he used to own a factory... Mother told me so. She thought I was young at first so she didn't tell me all about it .She used to kiss me and say: Then you'll know everything, poor, wretched child!She keeps calling me the poor, wretched child.Sometimes at night, she thought I was asleep (I couldn’t sleep, I pretended to be asleep), she kept crying at me, kissing me and saying: Poor, Poor child! " "What did your mother die of?" "Die of consumption; nearly six weeks now." "Do you remember when grandpa was rich?" "I was not born at that time. Before I was born, my mother left my grandfather." "Who did she go with?" "I don't know," Nellie answered, in a low voice that seemed thoughtful. "She went abroad, and I was born abroad." "Abroad? Where?" "In Switzerland. I've been everywhere. I've been to Italy. I've been to Paris." I was surprised. "You remember, Nellie?" "I remember many things." "How do you speak Russian so well, Nellie?" "When I was still abroad, my mother taught me to speak Russian. She is Russian, because my grandmother is Russian, and my grandfather is British, but they are similar to Russian. After my mother and I came back here six months ago, I just learn Can speak Russian.At that time, my mother was already sick.So we get poorer and poorer.Mom is always crying.At first she was here, in Petersburg, looking for her grandfather desperately for a long time, always saying that she was sorry for him, and crying... so sadly!when When she found out that grandpa is very poor now, she cried even more sadly.She also often wrote letters to him, but he insisted on not replying. " "Why did mother come back here? Just to find grandpa?" "I don't know. We've had a good time abroad," Nellie's eyes lit up as she said. "Mom lived alone and took me with her. She has a boyfriend with a good heart, just like you... He knew her when he was still in China. But he Died abroad, so my mother came back..." "Then your mother eloped with him and left grandpa?" "No, not with him. Mom eloped away from grandpa with another man, but that man dumped her..." "Who is that, Nellie?" Nellie glanced up at me, but said nothing.She knew exactly who her mother eloped with, and maybe this person was her father.Even to me, when this person's name is mentioned, she feels sad... I didn't want to cause her pain by asking the bottom line.She has a weird personality, moody and explosive, but she tries to bury her impulses in her heart; she is very likable, but also very arrogant, which makes it impossible to reach.since i met Since she, though she loved me with all her heart, with a love that was most transparent and pure, and put me almost on an equal footing with her dead mother (she could not even think of her without pain)-- Though she seldom opens her heart to me, Except for that day, she rarely felt the need to talk to me; on the contrary, she always avoided me and kept secrets about me.But that day, for several hours, she wept bitterly as she talked, telling her memories of the most exciting and painful things for her. All told me, and I will never forget the dreadful story.But her main story is yet to come... It's a terrible story; it's the story of an abandoned woman who once experienced happiness; she's poor, sick, tortured, betrayed; the last person she can count on, her own father, shuts her up .her father had And suffered insults, and later lost his mind due to unbearable pain and insults.This is the story of a woman without a way out; begging along the streets of cold and dirty Petersburg, holding the hand of her own daughter, whom she thought was a child; Then she lay dying in the damp basement for several months. Her father refused to forgive her until the last moment of her life. It was not until the last minute that he suddenly came to his senses and rushed to forgive her. But what he saw was already not he loves her More than a daughter who loves everything in the world, but a cold corpse.It is a curious tale of the mysterious, almost miraculous, relationship of a fainting old man to his little granddaughter, who is small but already After understanding his difficulties, I have understood many things that some people who are well-fed and well-off cannot understand after decades of experience.It is a dark and dark story of a great city under the gloomy skies of Petersburg In the back alleys, in the luxurious and eccentric life, in the blunt thinking that only cares about oneself and ignores others, in the conflicts of various interests, in the ghastly debauchery, in the bloodless crime of killing people, in this boring life abnormal life composition In the dark hell of the world, such dark and heartbreaking stories emerge so frequently, unknowingly, and almost mysteriously... But the story is yet to come...