RUDIN
scarcely crossed the threshold when her strength failed her, and she fell senseless into Masha’s arms.
But Rudin remained a long while still standing on the bank. At last he shivered, and with slow steps made his way to the little path and quietly walked along it. He was deeply ashamed . . . and wounded. ‘What a girl!’ he thought, ‘at seventeen! . . . No, I did not know her! . . . She is a remarkable girl. What strength of will! . . . She is right; she deserves another love than what I felt for her. I felt for her?’ he asked himself. ‘Can it be I already feel no more love for her? So this is how it was all to end! What a pitiful wretch I was beside her!’
The slight rattle of a racing droshky made Rudin raise his head. Lezhnyov was driving to meet him with his invariable trotting pony. Rudin bowed to him without speaking, and as though struck with a sudden thought, turned out of the road and walked quickly in the direction of Darya Mihailovna’s house.
Lezhnyov let him pass, looked after him, and after a moment’s thought he too turned his
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