She was Nadezhda Nikolaevna, Justice Kalinin's daughter. When I spoke above of the woman, who, like a black cat, had run between the doctor and me, I was speaking of her.… The doctor loved her as only such noble natures as my dear “Screw's” are able to love. Now he was standing beside her, as stiff as a pikestaff, with his hands at his sides and his neck stretched out. From time to time his loving eyes glanced inquiringly at her concentrated face. He seemed to be watching her prayer and in his eyes there shone a melancholy, passionate longing to be the object of her prayers. But, to his grief, he knew for whom she was praying.… It was not for him.…
I made a sign to Pavel Ivanovich when he looked round at me, and we both left the church.
“Let's stroll about the market,” I proposed.
We lighted our cigarettes and went towards the booths.
IX
“How is Nadezhda Nikolaevna?” I asked the doctor as we entered a tent where playthings were sold.
“Pretty well.… I think she's all right …” the doctor replied, frowning at a little soldier with a lilac face and a crimson uniform. “She asked about you.…”
“What did she ask about me?”
“Things in general.… She is angry that you have not been to see them for so long … she wants to see you and to inquire the cause of your sudden coldness towards their house.… You used to go there nearly every day and then—dropped them! As if cut off.… You don't even bow.”
“That's not true, Screw.… Want of leisure is really the cause of my ceasing to go to the Kalinins. What's true is true! My connexion with that family is as excellent as formerly.… I always bow if I happen to meet any one of them.”