in a loud sharp voice. 'But there's something else . . . tell him.. . . No, there's no need. It's no use.'
Mashurina went out, slamming the door, and Marianna was left pondering in the middle of the room.
'What does it all mean?' she said at last; 'why, that woman loves him more than I love him! And what was the meaning of her hints? And why did Solomin go out so suddenly and not come back?'
She began walking up and down. A strange sensation—a mixture of dismay and annoyance and bewilderment—took possession of her. Why had she not gone with Nezhdanov? Solomin had dissuaded her . . . and where was he himself? And what was going on all around her? Mashurina of course had not given her that fatal letter, out of sympathy for Nezhdanov.. . . But how could she bring herself to such an act of insubordination? Did she want to show her magnanimity? What right had she? And why had she, Marianna, been so much touched by that action? And was she really touched by it? An ugly woman was attracted by a young man.. . . After all, what was there out of the way in that? And why did Mashurina assume that Marianna's devotion to Nezhdanov was stronger than her
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