It was unpleasant for me, that he wished me to put myself on a par with him in his position; and, with absolute honesty, I assured him that I was very fond of cards and wine, and gossip about campaigns, and that I did not care to have any better comrades than those with whom I was associated.  But he would not believe me.

“Well, you may say so,” he continued; “but the lack of women’s society,—­ I mean, of course, femmes COMME il faut,—­is that not a terrible deprivation?  I don’t know what I would give now to go into a parlor, if only for a moment, and to have a look at a pretty woman, even though it were through a crack.”

He said nothing for a little, and drank still another glass of the red wine.

“Oh, my God, my God! [Footnote:  AKH, BOZHE MOI, BOZHE MOI.] If it only might be our fate to meet again, somewhere in Petersburg, to live and move among men, among ladies!”

He drank up the dregs of the wine still left in the bottle, and when he had finished it he said:  “AKH!  Pardon, maybe you wanted some more.  It was horribly careless of me.  However, I suppose I must have taken too much, and my head isn’t very strong. [Footnote:  Et je n’ai pas la tete Forte.] There was a time when I lived on Morskaia Street, au REZ-de-CHAUSSEE, and had marvellous apartments, furniture, you know, and I was able to arrange it all beautifully, not so very expensively though; my father, to be sure, gave me porcelains, flowers, and silver—­a wonderful lot.  Le matin je sortais, visits, 5 heures regulierement.  I used to go and dine with her; often she was alone.  Il faut avouer que c’etait une femme ravissante!  You didn’t know her at all, did you?”

“No.”

“You see, there was such high degree of womanliness in her, and such tenderness, and what love!  Lord!  I did not know how to appreciate my happiness then.  We would return after the theatre, and have a little supper together.  It was never dull where she was, toujours gaie, toujours aimante.  Yes, and I had never imagined what rare happiness it was.  Et j’ai beaucoup a me reprocher in regard to her.  Je l’ai fait souffrir et souvent.  I was outrageous.  AKH!  What a marvellous time that was!  Do I bore you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then I will tell you about our evenings.  I used to go—­that stairway, every flower-pot I knew,—­the door-handle, all was so lovely, so familiar; then the vestibule, her room. . . .  No, it will never, never come back to me again!  Even now she writes to me:  if you will let me, I will show you her letters.  But I am not what I was; I am ruined; I am no longer worthy of her. . . .  Yes, I am ruined for ever.  Je suis casse.  There’s no energy in me, no pride, nothing—­nor even any rank. . . . [Footnote:  Blagorodstva, noble birth, nobility.] Yes, I am ruined; and no one will ever appreciate my sufferings.  Every one is indifferent.  I am a lost man.  Never any chance for me to rise, because I have fallen morally . . . into the mire—­I have fallen. . . .”