She held in her hand a small volume of Pushkin; but during her reading she never once glanced at it.... She was obviously frightened; the little book shook slightly in her fingers. Aratoff also observed the expression of dejection which _now_ overspread her stern features. The first line: "I write to you ... what would you more?" she uttered with extreme simplicity, almost ingenuously,--stretching both arms out in front of her with an ingenuous, sincere, helpless gesture. Then she began to hurry a little; but beginning with the line: "Another! Nay! to none on earth could I have given e'er my heart!" she regained her self-possession, and grew animated; and when she reached the words: "All, all life hath been a pledge of faithful meeting thus with thee,"--her hitherto rather dull voice rang out enthusiastically and boldly, and her eyes riveted themselves on Aratoff with a boldness and directness to match. She went on with the same enthusiasm, and only toward the close did her voice again fall, and in it and in her face her previous dejection was again depicted. She made a complete muddle, as the saying is, of the last four lines,--the little volume of Pushkin suddenly slipped from her hands, and she beat a hasty retreat. The audience set to applauding and recalling her in desperate fashion.... One theological student,--a Little Russian,--among others, bellowed so loudly: "Muiluitch! Muiluitch!"[58] that his neighbour politely and sympathetically begged him to "spare himself, as a future proto-deacon!"[59] But Aratoff immediately rose and betook himself to the entrance. Kupfer overtook him.... "Good gracious, whither art thou going?" he yelled:--"I'll introduce thee to Clara if thou wishest--shall I?" "No, thanks," hastily replied Aratoff, and set off homeward almost at a run. V Strange emotions, which were not clear even to himself, agitated him. In reality, Clara's recitation had not altogether pleased him either ... altogether he could not tell precisely why. It had troubled him, that recitation, it had seemed to him harsh, unmelodious.... Somehow it seemed to have broken something within him, to have exerted some sort of violence. And those importunate, persistent, almost insolent glances--what had caused them? What did they signify?