thirty-one, and two make thirty-three; June, thirty, and thirty-three makes sixty-three; in July ten days; altogether it makes seventy-three. Is that much? Only seventy-three days, and then—freedom! I shall get out of this cellar. Akh! how happy I am! My mílenki! I how cleverly he thought it all out! How happy I am!"
This was on Sunday evening. On Monday came a lesson given instead of Tuesday.
"My dear, my beloved![1] how glad I am to be with you, if only for a minute! Do you know how many days there are left for me to be in this cellar? When will you be done? Will you be done by the tenth of July?"
"Yes, Viérotchka."
"Then I shall have to sit in this cellar only seventy-two days and this evening. One day I have marked off already. See I have made a little calendar just as boarding-school girls and boys do, and I cross off the days. How delightful it is to cross them off!"
"My dear little Viérotchka, my dear![2] Indeed, you have not long to worry along here; two months and a half will quickly pass, and you will be free."
"Akh! how delightful it will be! Only just at present, my dearest,[3] don't always talk with me, and don't look at me; and we must not play on the piano every time you come, either. And I shall not come out of my room every time that you come here; no, I shall not have enough strength of mind for that. I shall come out always, if only for one minute; and I shall look at you so coldly; not fondly at all. And now I am going right away to my room. Good by, my dear.[4] When?"
"Thursday."
"Three days; how long! But then there will be only sixty-eight days left."
"Count less; about the seventh you will be able to get away from here."
"The seventh? Then it is now only sixty-eight days. How happy you have made me! Good by, my dear."
Thursday.—"My dearest,[3] there are only sixty-six days to stay here."
"Yes, Viérotchka; the time flies fast."
