I'm like a vicious boy—running after another man's wife, writing idiotic letters, degrading myself. Ach!" He clutched his head, grunted and sat down.
"And now comes your lack of sincerity into the bargain," he continued with bitterness. "If you don't think I am playing a nice game—why are you here? What drew you? In my letters I only ask you for a straightforward answer: Yes, or No; and instead of giving it me, every day you contrive that we shall meet 'by chance' and you treat me to quotations from a moral copy-book."
Madame Loubianzev reddened and got frightened. She suddenly felt the kind of awkwardness that a modest woman would feel at being suddenly discovered naked.
"You seem to suspect some deceit on my side," she murmured. "I have always given you a straight answer; and I asked you for one today."
"Ah, does one ask such things? If you had said to me at once 'Go away,' I would have gone long ago, but you never told me to. Never once have you been frank. Strange irresolution. My God, either you're playing with me, or. . . ."
Ilyin did not finish, and rested his head in his hands. Sophia Pietrovna recalled her behaviour all through. She remembered that she had felt all these days not only in deed but even in her most intimate thoughts opposed to Ilyin's
