Of course I understood. I remember my thoughts at that moment: "his appearance is nonsensical and lacking in symmetry, yet what an orderly-working mind he has!" This made him dear to me, that is to the real _me_. (I still insist that _I_ of before is the real one; my I of late is, certainly, only an illness.) Apparently R- read my thought in my face; he put his hand on my shoulders and laughed: "Oh you!... Adam! By the way, about Eve...." He searched for something in his pockets, took out a little book, turned over a few leaves and said, "For the day-after-tomorrow,--oh, no, two days from now,--O-90 has a pink check on you. How about it?... As before?... You want her to?" "Of course, of course!" "All right then, I'll tell her. You see she herself is very bashful.... What a funny story! You see, for me she has only a pink-check affection, but for you!... And you, you did not even come to tell us how a fourth member sneaked into our triangle! Who is it? Repent, sinner! Come on!" A curtain rose inside me; rustle of silk, green bottle, lips.... Without any reason whatever I exclaimed (oh, why didn't I restrain myself at that moment?), "Tell me, R-, did you ever have the opportunity to try nicotine or alcohol?" R- sucked in his lips, looked at me from under his brows. I distinctly heard his thoughts: "Friend though he is, yet...." And he answered: "What shall I say? Strictly speaking, no. But I know a woman...." "I-330?" I cried. "What! You? You too?" R- was full of laughter; he chuckled, ready to splash over. My mirror was hanging in such a way that in order to see R- clearly I had to turn and look across the table. From my armchair I could see now only my own forehead and eyebrows. Then I, the real I, suddenly saw in the mirror a broken, quivering line of brow; I, the real I, heard suddenly a wild disgusting cry: "What? What does that 'also' mean? What does that 'also' mean? I demand...." Widely parted negro lips.... Eyes bulging. I (the real I) grasped my other wild, hairy, heavily breathing self forcibly. I (the real I) said to him, to R-, "In the name of the Well-Doer, please forgive me. I am very sick; I don't sleep; I do not know what is the matter with me." A swiftly passing smile appeared on the thick lips. "Yes, yes, I understand, I understand. I am familiar with all this, theoretically, of course. Good-bye." At the door he turned around like a little black ball, came back to the table and put a book upon it. "This is my latest book. I came to bring it to you. Almost forgot. Good-bye." ("b" like a splash.) The little ball rolled out. I am alone. Or, to be more exact, I am _tête-à-tête_ with that other self. I sit in the armchair and having crossed my legs, I watch curiously from some indefinite "there," how I (myself) am shrivelling in my bed!