“What, then?”

“You have been in the hospital, and they must have told you there about me.”

“What of it?  That is your business,” frowning, Nekhludoff said with indifference.  The cruel feeling of offended pride rose in him with greater force at her mention of the hospital.  “I, a man of the world, whom any girl of the upper class would be only too happy to marry, offered to become the husband of that woman, and she could not wait, but made love to the assistant surgeon,” he thought, looking at her with hatred.

“Sign this petition,” he said, and, taking from his pocket a large envelope, placed it on the table.  She wiped her tears with a corner of her ’kerchief, seated herself at the table, and asked him where to sign.

He showed her where, and she, seating herself, smoothed with her left hand the sleeve of the right.  He stood over her, silently looking at her back bent over the table, and now and then shaking from the sobs she tried to suppress, and his soul was convulsed by a struggle between good and evil, between offended pride and pity for her sufferings.  The feeling of pity conquered.

Whether it was the feeling of pity that first asserted itself, or the recollection of his own deeds of the same character for which he reproached her, he scarcely knew, but suddenly he felt himself guilty and pitied her.

Having signed the petition and wiped her soiled fingers on her skirt, she rose and glanced at him.

“Whatever the result, and no matter what happens, I shall keep my word,” said Nekhludoff.

The thought that he was forgiving her strengthened in him the feeling of pity and tenderness for her, and he wished to console her.

“I will do what I said.  I will be with you wherever you may be.”

“That’s no use,” she hastened to say, and her face became radiant.

“Make note of what you need for the road.”

“Nothing particular, I think.  Thank you.”

The inspector approached them, and Nekhludoff, without waiting to be told that the time was up, took leave of her, experiencing a new feeling of quiet happiness, calmness and love for all mankind.  It was the consciousness that no act of Maslova could alter his love for her that raised his spirit and made him feel happy.  Let her make love to the assistant—­that was her business.  He loved her not for himself, but for her and for God.

* * * * *

The love-making for which Maslova was expelled from the hospital, and to which Nekhludoff gave credence, consisted only in that, when Maslova, coming to the drug department for some pectoral herbs, prescribed by her superior, she found there an assistant, named Ustinoff.  This Ustinoff had been pursuing her with his attentions for a long time, and as he tried to embrace her she pushed him away with such force that he struck the shelving, and two bottles came crashing to the floor.