went to his own room. In the corridor he came upon Marianna. He was about to pass her . . . she stopped him with an abrupt gesture.
'Mr. Nezhdanov,' she began in a not quite steady voice, 'it ought really to be just the same to me what you think about me; but all the same I consider . . . I consider . . . (she was at a loss for a word . . .) I consider it fitting to tell you, that when you met me to-day in the copse with Mr. Markelov . . . Tell me, no doubt you wondered why it was we were both confused, and why we had come there, as though by appointment?'
'It certainly did strike me as a little strange,' Nezhdanov began.
'Mr. Markelov', Marianna broke in, 'made me an offer, and I refused him. That's all I had to say to you; so good-night. You can think of me what you choose.'
She turned swiftly away and walked with rapid steps along the corridor.
Nezhdanov went to his room, sat down at his window and pondered. 'What a strange girl! and why this wild freak, this uninvited confidence? What is it─a desire to be original, or simply affectation, or pride? Most likely pride. She can't put up with the smallest suspicion . . . She can't endure the idea that
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