'I should think I did!'
'She was married, I suppose?...'
'To Asanov, long, long ago. I wrote to you about it.'
* * * * *
But if either of them is living,
Say I am lazy about writing,
That our regiment has been sent forward,
And that they must not expect me home.
There is a girl, their neighbour....
As you remember, it's long
Since we parted.... She will not
Ask for me.... All the same,
You tell her all the truth,
Don't spare her empty heart--
Let her weep a little....
It will not hurt her much!
'To be sure, to be sure, so you did. Did her father forgive her in the
end?'
'He forgave her; but he would not receive Asanov.'
'Obstinate old fellow! Well, and are they supposed to be happy?'
'I don't know, really... I fancy they 're happy. They live in the
country, in ---- province. I've never seen them, though I have been
through their parts.'
'And have they any children?'
'I think so.... By the way, Pasinkov?...' I began questioningly.
He glanced at me.
'Confess--do you remember, you were unwilling to answer my question at
the time--did you tell her I cared for her?'
'I told her everything, the whole truth.... I always told her the
truth. To be hypocritical with her would have been a sin!'
Pasinkov was silent for a while.
'Come, tell me,' he began again: 'did you soon get over caring for her,
or not?'
'Not very soon, but I got over it. What's the good of sighing in vain?'
Pasinkov turned over, facing me.
'Well, I, brother,' he began--and his lips were quivering--'am no match
for you there; I've not got over caring for her to this day.'
'What!' I cried in indescribable amazement; 'did you love her?'
'I loved her,' said Pasinkov slowly, and he put both hands behind his
head. 'How I loved her, God only knows. I've never spoken of it to any
one, to any one in the world, and I never meant to ... but there! "On
earth, so they tell me, I have not long to stay." ... What does it
matter?'
Pasinkov's unexpected avowal so utterly astonished me that I could
positively say nothing. I could only wonder, 'Is it possible? how was
it I never suspected it?'
'Yes,' he went on, as though speaking to himself, 'I loved her. I never
ceased to love her even when I knew her heart was Asanov's. But how
bitter it was for me to know that! If she had loved you, I should at
least have rejoiced for you; but Asanov.... How did he make her care
for him? It was just his luck! And change her feelings, cease to care,
she could not! A true heart does not change....'
I recalled Asanov's visit after the fatal dinner, Pasinkov's
intervention, and I could not help flinging up my hands in
astonishment.
'You learnt it all from me, poor fellow!' I cried; 'and you undertook
to go and see her then!'
'Yes,' Pasinkov began again; 'that explanation with her ... I shall
never forget it.' It was then I found out, then I realised the meaning
of the word I had chosen for myself long before: resignation. But still
she has remained my constant dream, my ideal.... And he's to be pitied
who lives without an ideal!'
I looked at Pasinkov; his eyes, fastened, as it were, on the distance,
shone with feverish brilliance.
'I loved her,' he went on, 'I loved her, her, calm, true,
unapproachable, incorruptible; when she went away, I was almost mad
with grief.... Since then I have never cared for any one.'...
And suddenly turning, he pressed his face into the pillow, and began
quietly weeping.