However, on the following day I went again to L----. I said to myself that I wished to visit Gagin, but in truth I was curious to watch Assja, to see if she would pursue the extravagances of the day previous. I found them both in the parlor, and wonderful!--was it because I had thought so much of Russia in the night and the morning?--Assja appeared to me a real Russian girl--yes, even a very ordinary one, almost like a servant. She wore a shabby gown; her hair was combed back behind her ears. She sat quietly by the window, busy with some sewing, sedate and still as if she never in her life had been otherwise. She hardly spoke, examined her work from time to time; and her features had an expression so dull and commonplace that I was involuntarily reminded of our own Kathinkas and Maschinkas. To complete the resemblance, she began to hum "My darling little mother." I looked at her sallow, languid face, thought of yesterday's fantasies, and got suddenly out of temper. The weather was magnificent. Gagin declared that he was going to sketch from nature. I asked if he would permit me to accompany him, if it would not disturb him? "On the contrary," said he, "you will assist me by your suggestions." He put on his Vandyk hat and his painting blouse, took his canvas under his arm, and started. I followed him slowly; Assja remained at home. In going out Gagin begged her to take care that the soup should not be too watery. Assja promised to oversee it in the kitchen. Gagin reached a dell which I already knew, sat down upon a stone, and began to sketch an old, hollow, wide-branched oak. I lay down in the grass and took out a book, but my reading did not advance beyond the second page, nor did he blacken much paper. We chatted a great deal, and, if my memory does not deceive me, we discoursed very subtly and profoundly about work: what one should avoid, what strive for, and in what consisted the real merit of the artists of our day. At last Gagin declared that he was not in the mood for work, threw himself down beside me, and then for the first time our youthful talk flowed free, now passionate, now dreamy, now almost inspired, but always vague--a conversation peculiar to Russians. After we had talked ourselves tired we started for home, filled with satisfaction that we had accomplished something, had arrived at some result. I found Assja precisely as I had left her. Whatever pains I might take with my scrutiny I could discover no trace of coquetry, no evidence of a part designedly played. This time it was impossible to accuse her of oddity. "Aha!" Gagin said; "you have imposed penance and fasting on yourself." In the evening she gaped several times without pretence at concealment, and retired early. I also took leave of Gagin betimes, and having reached home, I gave myself up to no more dreams. This day ended in sober reflections. But I remember that as I settled myself to sleep I said aloud, "What a chameleon the girl is!" And after