"But she? Do not hide from me!"
"Yosef?"
"What?"
"What is that to thee?"
Yosef gritted his teeth, but inquired no further. He was ashamed. He confessed to himself that those questions were an indulgence granted to weakness and to a former feeling. With consternation almost he saw that time had brought no relief. Oh, there were moments when he wished to cast away Helena and duty and conscience and go and sell even honor, even the remnant of self-respect, for one moment in which he could rest his head against the countess' shoulder. And he could not help meditating about her. So far he had conquered, but now he remembered that formerly he had been different from what he was then.
Formerly his character had that calm depth which concealed everything; to-day he boiled up. From passionate outbursts he passed frequently to melancholy and indifferent sentimentalism; he remembered how once he used to ridicule this in others, how he sneered without pity, how he despised even sentimentalism. Augustinovich knew this best of all.
A certain time (about a month after the breaking with Lula) Augustinovich, waking up late in the night, saw Yosef dressed yet and sitting with a book. The clock in the silent night told the fleeting moments untiringly. A lamp burnt with a clear, bright flame, and by its light the ruddy side whiskers and pale face of Yosef were outlined clearly on the black cover of the chair. He was sitting with head bent back and closed eyes, but he was not sleeping, his raised brows and the color of his face testified to this. His face had an expression of unspeakable bliss; some kind of dream, like a golden butterfly, was sitting on his brain and melting into misty mildness the sharp lines of his features.
Augustinovich looked at him carefully, then rose in the bed silently with a face full of indignation and anger. "What is he doing?" thought he. "Thou art tempting thyself! May I be hanged if I don't throw a pillow at thy head. Thou booby! Yes, I will throw the pillow! break the lamp—Hei!"
He had finished in a moment these warlike preparations, and was making ready to give the terrible blow, when he pushed under the blanket quickly; Yosef opened his eyes.
"I am curious to know what will happen now," muttered Augustinovich, pretending to sleep like a dead man. Meanwhile his astonishment grew in earnest.