"That's our place," the coachman observed."Gee up, my pretties!"The lights became more and more numerous as they drove on.
"After the way in which you insulted me," Nejdanov said at last, "you will quite understand that I couldn't spend the night under your roof, and I must ask you, however unpleasant it may be for me to do so, to be kind enough to lend me your carriage as soon as we get to your house to take me back to the town.Tomorrow Ishall find some means of getting home, and will then communicate with you in a way which you doubtless expect.
Markelov did not reply at once.
"Nejdanov," he exclaimed suddenly, in a soft, despairing tone of voice, "Nejdanov! For Heaven's sake come into the house if only to let me beg for your forgiveness on my knees! Nejdanov! forget...forget my senseless words! Oh, if some one only knew how wretched I feel!" Markelov struck himself on the breast with his fist, a groan seemed to come from him."Nejdanov.Be generous..
..Give me your hand....Say that you forgive me!"Nejdanov held out his hand irresolutely--Markelov squeezed it so hard that he could almost have cried out.
The carriage stopped at the door of the house.
"Listen to me, Nejdanov," Markelov said to him a quarter of an hour later in his study, "listen." (He addressed him as "thou,"and in this unexpected "THOU" addressed to a man whom he knew to be a successful rival, whom he had only just cruelly insulted, wished to kill, to tear to pieces, in this familiar word "thou"there was a ring of irrevocable renunciation, sad, humble supplication, and a kind of claim...) Nejdanov recognised this claim and responded to it by addressing him in the same way.
"Listen! I've only just told you that I've refused the happiness of love, renounced everything to serve my convictions..
It wasn't true, I was only bragging! Love has never been offered to me, I've had nothing to renounce! I was born unlucky and will continue so for the rest of my days...and perhaps it's for the best.Since I can't get that, I must turn my attention to something else! If you can combine the one with the other...
love and be loved...and serve the cause at the same time, you're lucky! I envy you...but as for myself...I can't.
You happy man! You happy man! I can't."
Markelov said all this softly, sitting on a low stool, his head bent and arms hanging loose at his sides.Nejdanov stood before him lost in a sort of dreamy attentiveness, and though Markelov had called him a happy man, he neither looked happy nor did he feel himself to be so.
"I was deceived in my youth," Markelov went on; "she was a remarkable girl, but she threw me over...and for whom? For a German! for an adjutant! And Mariana--"He stopped.It was the first time he had pronounced her name and it seemed to burn his lips.
"Mariana did not deceive me.She told me plainly that she did not care for me...There is nothing in me she could care for, so she gave herself to you.Of course, she was quite free to do so.""Stop a minute!" Nejdanov exclaimed."What are you saying? What do you imply by the words 'gave herself'? I don't know what your sister told you, but I assure you--""I didn't mean physically, but morally, that is, with the heart and soul," Markelov interrupted him.He was obviously displeased with Nejdanov's exclamation."She couldn't have done better.As for my sister, she didn't, of course, wish to hurt me.It can make no difference to her, but she no doubt hates you and Mariana too.She did not tell me anything untrue...but enough of her!""Yes," Nejdanov thought to himself, "she does hate us." It's all for the best," Markelov continued, still sitting in the same position."The last fetters have been broken; there is nothing to hinder me now! It doesn't matter that Golushkin is an ass, and as for Kisliakov's letters, they may perhaps be absurd, but we must consider the most important thing.Kisliakov says that everything is ready.Perhaps you don't believe that too."Nejdanov did not reply.
"You may be right, but if we've to wait until everything, absolutely everything, is ready, we shall never make a beginning.
