“I see,” he began, in a subdued tone, “that you contemplate sacrificing yourself for her. ‘I will descend to her level, and protect her from the mob,’ and so on. That’s what you are saying to your virtuous self, waxing big in your own eyes as a worm does in carrion. But it’s all a sham; nothing else but a lie! You’re not in the least capable of self- sacrifice. If, for instance, Lida had been disfigured by small-pox, perhaps you might have worked yourself up to such a deed of heroism. But after a couple of days you would have embittered her life, either spurning her or deserting her, or overwhelming her reproaches. At present your attitude towards yourself is one of adoration, as if you were an _ikon_. Yes, yes, your face is transfigured, and every one would say, ‘Oh! look, there’s a saint.’ Yet you have lost nothing which you desired. Lida’s limbs are the same as before; so are her passion and her splendid vitality. But of course, it is extremely convenient and also agreeable to provide oneself with enjoyment while piously imagining that one is doing a noble deed. I should rather say it was!” At these words, Novikoff’s self-pity gave place to a nobler sentiment. “You take me to be worse than I am,” he said reproachfully. “I am not so wanting in feeling as you think. I won’t deny that I have certain prejudices, but I love Lida Petrovna, and if I were quite sure that she loved me, do you think that I should take a long while to make up my mind, because …” His voice failed him at this last word. Sanine suddenly became quite calm. Crossing the room, he stood at the open window, lost in thought. “Just now she is very sad,” he said, “and will hardly be thinking of love. If she loves you or not, how can I tell? But it seems to me that if you came to her as the second man who did not condemn her for her brief amour, well…. Anyway, there’s no knowing what she’ll say!” Novikoff sat there, as one in a dream. Sadness and joy produced within his heart a sense of happiness as gentle and elusive as the light in an evening sky. “Let us go to her,” said Sanine. “Whatever happens, it will please her to see a human face amid so many false masks that hide grimacing brutes. You’re a bit of a fool, my friend, but in your stupidity there is something which others haven’t got. And to think that for ever so long the world founded its hopes and happiness upon such folly! Come, let us go!” Novikoff smiled timidly. “I am very willing to go to her. But will she care to see me?” “Don’t think about that,” said Sanine, as he placed both hands on the other’s shoulders. “If you are minded to do what’s right, then, do it, and the future will take care of itself.” “All right; let us go,” exclaimed Novikoff with decision. In the doorway he stopped and looking Sanine full in the face he said with unwonted emphasis: “Look here, if it is in my power, I will do my best to make her happy. This sounds commonplace, I know, but I can’t express my feelings in any other way.”