"Yes."
"Very well! my mistress has a letter for you."
She went upstairs, and came back with a letter in her hand.
"Here it is," said she.
"You must be mistaken, it's impossible!" I stammered.
The servant looked at me vacantly, and began to sweep.
I opened the letter; it was from Gaguine. Not a line from Annouchka!
In beginning, he begged me to forgive him for this hasty departure. He added that when I was calmer I would approve, no doubt, of his determination. It was the only means of getting out of an embarrassing position, and one that might become dangerous.
"Yesterday evening," he said to me, "while we were waiting for Annouchka in silence, I was convinced of the necessity of a separation. There are prejudices that I respect; I can understand that you could not marry her. She has told me all, and for her sake I must yield to her urgent entreaties."
At the end of his letter he expressed regret at the breaking off of our friendly intercourse so soon; hoped that I would always be happy; pressed my hand, and begged me not to try and meet them again.