'But I won't let you. Good heavens! how can you! what will he think?'
Pasinkov looked at me.
'Why, do you think it better to keep this folly up, to bring ruin on
yourself, and disgrace on the girl?'
'But what are you going to say to Asanov?'
'I'll try and explain things to him, I'll tell him you beg his
forgiveness ...'
'But I don't want to apologise to him!'
'You don't? Why, aren't you in fault?'
I looked at Pasinkov; the calm and severe, though mournful, expression
of his face impressed me; it was new to me. I made no reply, and sat
down on the sofa.
Pasinkov went out.
In what agonies of suspense I waited for his return! With what cruel
slowness the time lingered by! At last he came back--late.
'Well?' I queried in a timid voice.
'Thank goodness!' he answered; 'it's all settled.'
'You have been at Asanov's?'
'Yes.'
'Well, and he?--made a great to-do, I suppose?' I articulated with an
effort.
'No, I can't say that. I expected more ... He ... he's not such a
vulgar fellow as I thought.'
'Well, and have you seen any one else besides?' I asked, after a brief
pause.
'I've been at the Zlotnitskys'.'
'Ah!...' (My heart began to throb. I did not dare look Pasinkov in the
face.) 'Well, and she?'
'Sophia Nikolaevna is a reasonable, kind-hearted girl.... Yes, she is a
kind-hearted girl. She felt awkward at first, but she was soon at ease.
But our whole conversation only lasted five minutes.'
'And you ... told her everything ... about me ... everything?'
'I told her what was necessary.'
'I shall never be able to go and see them again now!' I pronounced
dejectedly....
'Why? No, you can go occasionally. On the contrary, you are absolutely
bound to go and see them, so that nothing should be thought....'
'Ah, Yakov, you will despise me now!' I cried, hardly keeping back my
tears.
'Me! Despise you? ...' (His affectionate eyes glowed with love.)
'Despise you ... silly fellow! Don't I see how hard it's been for you,
how you're suffering?'
He held out his hand to me; I fell on his neck and broke into sobs.
After a few days, during which I noticed that Pasinkov was in very low
spirits, I made up my mind at last to go to the Zlotnitskys'. What I
felt, as I stepped into their drawing-room, it would be difficult to
convey in words; I remember that I could hardly distinguish the persons
in the room, and my voice failed me. Sophia was no less ill at ease;
she obviously forced herself to address me, but her eyes avoided mine
as mine did hers, and every movement she made, her whole being,
expressed constraint, mingled ... why conceal the truth? with secret
aversion. I tried, as far as possible, to spare her and myself from
such painful sensations. This meeting was happily our last--before her
marriage. A sudden change in my fortunes carried me off to the other
end of Russia, and I bade a long farewell to Petersburg, to the
Zlotnitsky family, and, what was most grievous of all for me, to dear
Yakov Pasinkov.