The prince's love for Marya Gavrilovna did not become less, it even
increased in fervency, but he had no success with the lady. He pressed
his hands to his heart, and went down on his knees to her many times,
but she had only one answer for him: "But what can I do if I don't love
you?" "Well, don't love me," said the prince; "perhaps you will love
me by and by, but I can't be happy without you." Then she would say,
"I'm very sorry for you, but I can't help your unhappiness." "You love
someone else, perhaps," said the prince. "Perhaps I love someone else,"
said she, and she laughed.
The prince grew very sad about it. He would lie at home on the sofa,
gloomy and silent, turn his face to the wall, and even refuse to take
any food. Everybody in the house went about on tip-toe.... One day
Rozanof called when the prince was in this state, and he too looked
out of sorts. He came into the prince's room, said "Good morning,"
and nothing more. They were both silent. At length the artist pulled
himself together and said to the prince, "Listen, Andrey Lvovitch. I'm
very sorry that with my friendly hand I have got to deal you a blow."
The prince, who was lying with his face to the wall, said, "Please come
straight to the point without any introduction."
Then the artist explained what he meant.
"Marya Gavrilovna is going to live with me as my wife," said he.
"You're going out of your mind," said the prince.
"No," said the artist, "I'm not going out of my mind. I have loved
Marya Gavrilovna for a long time, but I never dared tell her so. But
to-day she said to me: 'Why do we hide things from one another? I've
seen for a long time that you love me, and I also love you. I won't
marry you, but we can live together....'"
The artist told the whole story, and the prince lay on the sofa neither
moving nor saying a word. Rozanof sat there and looked at him, and
presently he went quietly away.