The reading of this manuscript so upset me, the impression made by
Susanna's visit was so great, that I could not sleep all night, and
early in the morning I sent an express messenger to Fustov with a
letter, in which I besought him to come to Moscow as soon as possible,
as his absence might have the most terrible results. I mentioned also my
interview with Susanna, and the manuscript she had left in my hands.
After having sent off the letter, I did not go out of the house all day,
and pondered all the time on what might be happening at the Ratsches'. I
could not make up my mind to go there myself. I could not help noticing
though that my aunt was in a continual fidget; she ordered pastilles to
be burnt every minute, and dealt the game of patience, known as 'the
traveller,' which is noted as a game in which one can never succeed. The
visit of an unknown lady, and at such a late hour, had not been kept
secret from her: her imagination at once pictured a yawning abyss on the
edge of which I was standing, and she was continually sighing and
moaning and murmuring French sentences, quoted from a little manuscript
book entitled _Extraits de Lecture_. In the evening I found on the
little table at my bedside the treatise of De Girando, laid open at the
chapter: On the evil influence of the passions. This book had been put
in my room, at my aunt's instigation of course, by the elder of her
companions, who was called in the household Amishka, from her
resemblance to a little poodle of that name, and was a very sentimental,
not to say romantic, though elderly, maiden lady. All the following day
was spent in anxious expectation of Fustov's coming, of a letter from
him, of news from the Ratsches' house... though on what ground could
they have sent to me? Susanna would be more likely to expect me to visit
her.... But I positively could not pluck up courage to see her without
first talking to Fustov. I recalled every expression in my letter to
him.... I thought it was strong enough; at last, late in the evening, he
appeared.