What have I ever
done, Ivan Andreievitch? I am so unimportant, why has he taken such a
trouble? To-day I gave him his last chance... or last night... it is
four in the morning now, and the bells are already ringing for the early
Mass. I said to him:
"Will you go away? Leave us all for ever? Will you promise never to
return?"
He said in that dreadful quiet sure way of his: "No, I will never go
away until you make me."
Vera hates him. I cannot leave her alone with him, can I? I (here there
are three lines of illegible writing)... so I will think again and
again of that last time when we sat together and all the good things
that she said. What greatness of soul, what goodness, what splendour!
And perhaps after all I am a fortunate man to be allowed to be faithful
to so fine a grandeur! Many men have poor ambitions, and God bestows
His gifts with strange blindness, I often think. But I am tired, and you
too will be tired. Perhaps you have not got so far. I must thank you for
your friendship to me. I am very grateful for it. And you, if afterwards
you ever think of me, think that I always wished to.
Pages:
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554