‘Oh, no, ... indeed! But I ... I should, perhaps, not have made up my mind to intrude on you to-day, if I had not been asked to come to you. In fact, I have a message for you.’ ‘From whom, may I ask?’ ‘From a person you know, from Irina Pavlovna Ratmirov. You promised three days ago to go and see her and you have not been.’ Litvinov stared at Potugin in amazement. ‘You know Madame Ratmirov?’ ‘As you see.’ ‘And you know her well?’ ‘I am to a certain degree a friend of hers.’ Litvinov was silent for a little. ‘Allow me to ask you,’ he began at last, ‘do you know why Irina Pavlovna wants to see me?’ Potugin went up to the window. ‘To a certain degree I do. She was, as far as I can judge, very pleased at meeting you,--well,--and she wants to renew your former relations.’ ‘Renew,’ repeated Litvinov. ‘Excuse my indiscretion, but allow me to question you a little more. Do you know what was the nature of those relations?’ ‘Strictly speaking ... no, I don’t know. But I imagine,’ added Potugin, turning suddenly to Litvinov and looking affectionately at him, ‘I imagine that they were of some value. Irina Pavlovna spoke very highly of you, and I was obliged to promise her I would bring you. Will you come?’ ‘When?’ ‘Now ... at once.’ Litvinov merely made a gesture with his hand. ‘Irina Pavlovna,’ pursued Potugin, ‘supposes that the ... how can I express it ... the environment, shall we say, in which you found her the other day, was not likely to be particularly attractive to you; but she told me to tell you, that the devil is not so black as he is fancied.’ ‘Hm.... Does that saying apply strictly to the environment?’ ‘Yes ... and in general.’ ‘Hm.... Well, and what is your opinion, Sozont Ivanitch, of the devil?’ ‘I think, Grigory Mihalitch, that he is in any case not what he is fancied.’ ‘Is he better?’ ‘Whether better or worse it’s hard to say, but certainly he is not the same as he is fancied. Well, shall we go?’ ‘Sit here a little first. I must own that it still seems rather strange to me.’ ‘What seems strange, may I make bold to inquire?’ ‘In what way can you have become a friend of Irina Pavlovna?’ Potugin scanned himself. ‘With my appearance, and my position in society, it certainly does seem rather incredible; but you know--Shakespeare has said already, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, etc.” Life too is not to be trifled with. Here is a simile for you; a tree stands before you when there is no wind; in what way can a leaf on a lower branch touch a leaf on an upper branch? It’s impossible. But when the storm rises it is all changed ... and the two leaves touch.’ ‘Aha! So there were storms?’ ‘I should think so! Can one live without them? But enough of philosophy. It’s time to go.’ Litvinov was still hesitating.