Natalya was on the point of replying, but she checked herself.
‘Look.’ began Rudin, with a gesture towards the window, ‘do you see that apple-tree? It is broken by the weight and abundance of its own fruit. True emblem of genius.’
‘It is broken because it had no support,’ replied Natalya.
‘I understand you, Natalya Alexyevna, but it is not so easy for a man to find such a support.’
‘I should think the sympathy of others... in any case isolation always....’
Natalya was rather confused, and flushed a little.
‘And what will you do in the country in the winter?’ she added hurriedly.
‘What shall I do? I shall finish my larger essay—you know it—on “Tragedy in Life and in Art.” I described to you the outline of it the day before yesterday, and shall send it to you.’
‘And you will publish it?’
‘No.’