blame; I am worthy of being hung; but I cannot bear your refusal," etc., etc.
Viérotchka listened to him for several minutes; finally—it was time to put an end to it—this was hard:—
"No, Mikhaïl Ivanuitch, this is enough! Stop! I cannot consent."
"Well, if that must be so, I beg one favor; you feel just now too keenly how I offended you; don't give me your answer yet; allow me time to win your forgiveness! I seem to you low, vile; but look, maybe I shall grow to be better; I will use all my strength to become a better man; help me! Don't push me away now! Give me time! I will obey you in everything that you may ask; you shall see how humble I am; maybe you will see that there is some good in me; only give me time!"
"I am sorry for you," said Viérotchka; "I see the sincerity of your love." (Viérotchka, this is not love at all; it is only a mixture of different grades of depravity and meanness: love is something quite different; because a man finds it disagreeable to be refused by a women, that man is not necessarily in love with her; that is not love at all; but Viérotchka does not know this yet and she is touched.) "You want me not to give my answer yet—very good; but I warn you that the postponement will lead to nothing. I shall never give you any other answer than the one that you have just received."
"I shall deserve—I shall deserve another answer; you will be my salvation!" He grasped her hand and began to kiss it.
Marya Alekséyevna came into the room, and in the stress of her emotion was going to bless her dear children without further formality,—that is, without Pavel Konstantinuitch,—then to call him, and have them solemnly blessed. Storeshnikof demolished one-half of her joy by explaining to her that Viéra Pavlovna, although she had not as yet consented, did not absolutely refuse, but merely postponed the answer. This was bad; but still it was good compared to what she had expected.
Storeshnikof went home in triumph. Again the threat about the estate came upon the scene, and again Anna Petrovna fell in a swoon.
Marya Alekséyevna was absolutely at a loss to know what to think about Viérotchka. Her daughter spoke as though
