"Thus we lived in an eternal fog, without seeing the situation we were in. If that which had happened had not taken place and if I had lived in the same manner until old age, I should, at my death, have thought that I had lived a good life,—not an especially good, but not necessarily a bad, life,—such as all live; I should not have come to comprehend that abyss of wretchedness and that contemptible lie in which I wallowed.
"We should have been two mutually hating prisoners, fettered with one chain, poisoning each other's life, and endeavouring not to see this. I did not know then that ninety-nine out of a hundred married couples live in the same hell, and that it cannot be otherwise. At that time I knew neither of others, nor of myself.
"It is remarkable what coincidences there are in well-regulated and even in badly regulated lives! Just when the life of the parents becomes unbearable to both of them, it becomes necessary to subject the children to the conditions of the city for the sake of their education. And thus rises the necessity of settling in the city."
He grew silent and once or twice uttered his strange sounds, which now perfectly resembled repressed sobs. We were getting near to a station.
"What time is it?" he asked.
I looked at my watch: it was two o'clock.
"Are you not tired?" he asked.
"No. But you are!"
"I have a choking feeling. Excuse me, I will walk a little and take a drink of water."
He went, staggering, through the car. I remained sitting alone, running through everything he had told me, and I was so lost in thought that I did not notice how he had come in by the other door.
