“You excuse me, Jennechka, I must have dinner right away,” said he, “so, perhaps, you’ll go together with me and tell me what’s the matter, while I’ll manage to eat at the same time. There’s a modest little inn not far from here. At this time there are no people there at all, and there’s even a tiny little stall, a sort of a private room; that will be just the thing for you and me. Let’s go! Perhaps you’ll also have a bite of something.” “No. I won’t eat,” answered Jennka hoarsely, “and I won’t detain you for long...a few minutes. I have to talk things over, have some advice—but I haven’t anybody.” “Very well...Let’s go then! In whatever way I can, I’m always at your service, in everything. I love you very much, Jennka!” She looked at him sadly and gratefully. “I know this, Serge Ivanovich; that’s why I’ve come.” “You need money, perhaps? Just say so. I haven’t got much with me, myself; but the gang will trust me with an advance.” “No, thanks...it isn’t that at all. I’ll tell everything at once, there, where we’re going now.” In the dim, low-ceiled little inn, the customary haunt of petty thieves, where business was carried on only in the evening, until very far into the night, Platonov took the little half-dark cubby hole. “Give me boiled meat, cucumbers, a large glass of vodka, and bread,” he ordered the waiter. The waiter—a young fellow with a dirty face; pugnosed; as dirty and greasy in all his person as though he had just been pulled out of a cesspool, wiped his lips and asked hoarsely: “How many kopecks’ bread?” “As much as it comes to.” Then he started laughing: “Bring as much as possible—we’ll reckon it up later... and some bread cider!” “Well, Jennie, say what your trouble is...I can already see by your face that there’s trouble, or something distasteful in general...Go ahead and tell it!” Jennka for a long time plucked her handkerchief and looked at the tips of her slippers, as though, gathering her strength. Timorousness had taken possession of her—the necessary and important words would not come into her mind, for anything. Platonov came to her aid: “Don’t be embarrassed, my dear Jennie, tell all there is! For you know that I’m like one of the family, and will never give you away. And perhaps I may really give you some worth-while advice. Well, dive off with a splash into the water—begin!” “That’s just it, I don’t know how to begin,” said Jennka irresolutely. “Here’s what, Sergei Ivanovich, I’m a sick woman...Understand?—sick in a bad way...With the most nasty disease...Do you know which?” “Go on!” said Platonov, nodding his head. “And I’ve been that way for a long time...more than a month...a month and a half, maybe...Yes, more than a month, because I found out about this on the Trinity...” Platonov quickly rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Wait a while, I’ve recalled it...This was that day I was there together with the students...isn’t that so?” “That’s right, Sergei Ivanovich, that’s so...”