Friendship -- Fiction; Poor -- Fiction; Russia -- Social life and customs -- 1533-1917 -- Fiction
Thedora returned; whereupon, in some confusion, he repeated that he felt
a great respect for my modesty and virtue, and that he much wished to
become acquainted with me; after which he took Thedora aside, and tried,
on some pretext or another, to give her money (though of course she
declined it). At last he took himself off--again reiterating his
assurances, and saying that he intended to return with some earrings as
a present; that he advised me to change my lodgings; and, that he could
recommend me a splendid flat which he had in his mind’s eye as likely to
cost me nothing. Yes, he also declared that he greatly liked me for my
purity and good sense; that I must beware of dissolute young men; and
that he knew Anna Thedorovna, who had charged him to inform me that she
would shortly be visiting me in person. Upon that, I understood all.
What I did next I scarcely know, for I had never before found myself in
such a position; but I believe that I broke all restraints, and made the
old man feel thoroughly ashamed of himself--Thedora helping me in the
task, and well-nigh turning him neck and crop out of the tenement.
Neither of us doubt that this is Anna Thedorovna’s work--for how
otherwise could the old man have got to know about us?
Now, therefore, Makar Alexievitch, I turn to you for help. Do not, for
God’s sake, leave me in this plight. Borrow all the money that you can
get, for I have not the wherewithal to leave these lodgings, yet cannot
possibly remain in them any longer. At all events, this is Thedora’s
advice. She and I need at least twenty-five roubles, which I will repay
you out of what I earn by my work, while Thedora shall get me additional
work from day to day, so that, if there be heavy interest to pay on the
loan, you shall not be troubled with the extra burden. Nay, I will make
over to you all that I possess if only you will continue to help me.
Truly, I grieve to have to trouble you when you yourself are so hardly
situated, but my hopes rest upon you, and upon you alone. Goodbye, Makar
Alexievitch. Think of me, and may God speed you on your errand!
B.D.
August 4th.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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