He came into the dining-room.  His aunts, elegantly dressed, their family doctor, and a neighbour were already there.  Everything seemed so very ordinary, but in Nekhludoff a storm was raging.  He understood nothing of what was being said and gave wrong answers, thinking only of Katusha.  The sound of her steps in the passage brought back the thrill of that last kiss and he could think of nothing else.  When she came into the room he, without looking round, felt her presence with his whole being and had to force himself not to look at her.

After dinner he at once went into his bedroom and for a long time walked up and down in great excitement, listening to every sound in the house and expecting to hear her steps.  The animal man inside him had now not only lifted its head, but had succeeded in trampling under foot the spiritual man of the days of his first visit, and even of that every morning.  That dreadful animal man alone now ruled over him.

Though he was watching for her all day he could not manage to meet her alone.  She was probably trying to evade him.  In the evening, however, she was obliged to go into the room next to his.  The doctor had been asked to stay the night, and she had to make his bed.  When he heard her go in Nekhludoff followed her, treading softly and holding his breath as if he were going to commit a crime.

She was putting a clean pillow-case on the pillow, holding it by two of its corners with her arms inside the pillow-case.  She turned round and smiled, not a happy, joyful smile as before, but in a frightened, piteous way.  The smile seemed to tell him that what he was doing was wrong.  He stopped for a moment.  There was still the possibility of a struggle.  The voice of his real love for her, though feebly, was still speaking of her, her feelings, her life.  Another voice was saying, “Take care I don’t let the opportunity for your own happiness, your own enjoyment, slip by!” And this second voice completely stifled the first.  He went up to her with determination and a terrible, ungovernable animal passion took possession of him.

With his arm round he made her sit down on the bed; and feeling that there was something more to be done he sat down beside her.

“Dmitri Ivanovitch, dear! please let me go,” she said, with a piteous voice.  “Matrona Pavlovna is coming,” she cried, tearing herself away.  Some one was really coming to the door.

“Well, then, I’ll come to you in the night,” he whispered.  “You’ll be alone?”

“What are you thinking of?  On no account.  No, no!” she said, but only with her lips; the tremulous confusion of her whole being said something very different.

It was Matrona Pavlovna who had come to the door.  She came in with a. blanket over her arm, looked reproachfully at Nekhludoff, and began scolding Katusha for having taken the wrong blanket.