“I will not, however, weary you any longer, and to me too, of course, it’s painful to recall all this.  My patient passed away the next day.  God rest her soul!” the doctor added, speaking quickly and with a sigh.  “Before her death she asked her family to go out and leave me alone with her.”

“‘Forgive me,’ she said; ’I am perhaps to blame towards you ... my illness ... but believe me, I have loved no one more than you ... do not forget me ... keep my ring.’”

The doctor turned away; I took his hand.

“Ah!” he said, “let us talk of something else, or would you care to play preference for a small stake?  It is not for people like me to give way to exalted emotions.  There’s only one thing for me to think of; how to keep the children from crying and the wife from scolding.  Since then, you know, I have had time to enter into lawful wedlock, as they say...  Oh ...  I took a merchant’s daughter—­seven thousand for her dowry.  Her name’s Akulina; it goes well with Trifon.  She is an ill-tempered woman, I must tell you, but luckily she’s asleep all day...  Well, shall it be preference?”

We sat down to preference for halfpenny points.  Trifon Ivanich won two rubles and a half from me, and went home late, well pleased with his success.

THE CHRISTMAS TREE AND THE WEDDING

BY FIODOR M. DOSTOYEVSKY

The other day I saw a wedding...  But no!  I would rather tell you about a Christmas tree.  The wedding was superb.  I liked it immensely.  But the other incident was still finer.  I don’t know why it is that the sight of the wedding reminded me of the Christmas tree.  This is the way it happened: 

Exactly five years ago, on New Year’s Eve, I was invited to a children’s ball by a man high up in the business world, who had his connections, his circle of acquaintances, and his intrigues.  So it seemed as though the children’s ball was merely a pretext for the parents to come together and discuss matters of interest to themselves, quite innocently and casually.

I was an outsider, and, as I had no special matters to air, I was able to spend the evening independently of the others.  There was another gentleman present who like myself had just stumbled upon this affair of domestic bliss.  He was the first to attract my attention.  His appearance was not that of a man of birth or high family.  He was tall, rather thin, very serious, and well dressed.  Apparently he had no heart for the family festivities.  The instant he went off into a corner by himself the smile disappeared from his face, and his thick dark brows knitted into a frown.  He knew no one except the host and showed every sign of being bored to death, though bravely sustaining the role of thorough enjoyment to the end.  Later I learned that he was a provincial, had come to the capital on some important, brain-racking business, had brought a letter of recommendation to our host, and our host had taken him under his protection, not at all con amore.  It was merely out of politeness that he had invited him to the children’s ball.