Fyodor Dostoevsky

whom they are for ever expecting telegrams to notify the fact of

her death."

"Ah, then of course their interests centre around her. It is a

question of succession. Let that but be settled, and the General

will marry, Mlle. Polina will be set free, and De Griers--"

"Yes, and De Griers?"

"Will be repaid his money, which is what he is now waiting for."

"What? You think that he is waiting for that?"

"I know of nothing else," asserted Mr. Astley doggedly.

"But, I do, I do!" I shouted in my fury. "He is waiting also

for the old woman's will, for the reason that it awards Mlle.

Polina a dowry. As soon as ever the money is received, she will

throw herself upon the Frenchman's neck. All women are like

that. Even the proudest of them become abject slaves where

marriage is concerned. What Polina is good for is to fall head

over ears in love. That is MY opinion. Look at her--especially

when she is sitting alone, and plunged in thought. All this was

pre-ordained and foretold, and is accursed. Polina could

perpetrate any mad act. She--she--But who called me by name?" I

broke off. "Who is shouting for me? I heard some one calling in

Russian, 'Alexis Ivanovitch!' It was a woman's voice. Listen!"

At the moment, we were approaching my hotel. We had left the cafe

long ago, without even noticing that we had done so.

"Yes, I DID hear a woman's voice calling, but whose I do not

know. The someone was calling you in Russian. Ah! NOW I can see

whence the cries come. They come from that lady there--the one

who is sitting on the settee, the one who has just been escorted

to the verandah by a crowd of lacqueys. Behind her see that pile

of luggage! She must have arrived by train."

"But why should she be calling ME? Hear her calling again! See!

She is beckoning to us!"

"Yes, so she is," assented Mr. Astley.

"Alexis Ivanovitch, Alexis Ivanovitch! Good heavens, what a

stupid fellow!" came in a despairing wail from the verandah.

We had almost reached the portico, and I was just setting foot

upon the space before it, when my hands fell to my sides in limp

astonishment, and my feet glued themselves to the pavement!

IX

For on the topmost tier of the hotel verandah, after being

carried up the steps in an armchair amid a bevy of footmen,

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