my surroundings until long after I passed the Moscow railway station, when I became suddenly conscious that the pavement was wretched, and the shops extremely shabby. I stopped and looked about me.
Mathilde came panting to my side, exclaiming that mademoiselle had walked at least four miles, and that we were in a "très vilaine" street. I agreed with her.
The people who were passing us were workmen, peasants, and boys driving cows, and carrying tin horns four or five feet long, on which they blew tremendous blasts. The shops had a shabby appearance, owing partly to the signs, on which pictures of the articles offered for sale were painted, as well as their names in several languages.
Slightly puzzled at my surroundings, I walked more slowly, and allowed Mathilde to guide me. The object of my excursion was accomplished. The world no longer looked black and dreary. I began to think there was something for me to accomplish in life, and some people who loved me, in spite of my faults. Feeling comforted, I wended my way absently along, and my thoughts travelled far from my surroundings; so it was with quite a start that I looked at a gentleman who had sprung out of a sledge, and now advanced to speak. He was so enveloped in furs that I did not recognize George until he was close to me. His face wore an expression of disapproval; and, spending no time in preliminaries, he asked me where I was going.
"I don't know," I answered, without a smile. "I believe Mathilde is taking me home."
