“To speak candidly, I can’t quite comprehend how it was that I didn’t lose my mind that night. There was the feeling that she was consuming herself, also that she was not in her senses; and that were it not for the fact that she considered herself as dying, she wouldn’t have thought of me. Say what you will, it’s a hideous thought to be dying at twenty years of age without having loved some one; that is what tortured her, that is why in her desperation she clung to me--do you grasp the idea? She held me there in her embrace. ‘Have pity on me, Alexandra Andreyevna, and have pity on thyself,’ I said to her. ‘Why, should I?’ was her reply. ‘What is there to pity, since I must die?’... She repeated this incessantly. ‘If I only knew that I’d remain alive and go among respectable young ladies, I’d feel ashamed, dreadfully ashamed ... but what does it matter to me now?’ ‘Who told you you’re going to die?’ ‘Oh, no, enough of this, you shan’t fool me, you don’t know how to lie, look at yourself.’ ‘You shall live, Alexandra Andreyevna, I shall save you; then we will ask your mother for her blessing.... We will marry, we will be happy.’ ‘No, no, I have your word for it, I must die.... You had promised me.... You told me so.’... “I felt bitter at heart, and for many reasons. And judge for yourself; often small things happen, trifling in themselves, yet they are painful. It occurred to her to ask me my Christian name. As ill luck will have it, I am called Trifon; yes, Trifon, Trifon Ivanich. In the house I was simply called Doctor. There was no help for it. ‘Trifon, miss,’ I replied. She looked amused, and she shook her head; then she whispered something in French--something that didn’t sound quite nice; then she laughed; it was unpleasant to me, I assure you. In such a manner I passed almost the entire night with her. In the morning I left her, almost not in my own senses. I reëntered her room later in the morning, after tea. Good God! she was hardly recognizable; a corpse couldn’t have looked worse. I swear to you, upon my honor, I really can’t understand how I endured the torture. Three days and three nights more my patient lingered ... and what nights they were! And the things she said to me!... Then the final night--imagine to yourself; I was sitting beside her, and there was in my heart but one prayer to God: ‘Take her as soon as possible, and me also.’... Suddenly, unexpectedly, her mother entered the room.... I had already told her the day before that there was but little hope, and that it would be well to have a priest. The sick girl, seeing her mother, blurted out, ‘I’m glad you came.... Look at us, we love each other, we have promised ourselves to each other!’ ‘What is she saying, Doctor, what is she saying?’ I grew deathly pale. ‘She’s delirious, it’s the fever.’... But she went on: ‘Enough, enough, only a little while ago you spoke differently to me, and even accepted a ring from me ... why