Fyodor Dostoevsky

that I was by no means such a spiritless creature as I seemed to myself.

What is more, even in the acutest paroxysm of this cowardly fever, I

dreamed of getting the upper hand, of dominating them, carrying them

away, making them like me--if only for my "elevation of thought and

unmistakable wit." They would abandon Zverkov, he would sit on one

side, silent and ashamed, while I should crush him. Then, perhaps, we

would be reconciled and drink to our everlasting friendship; but what was

most bitter and humiliating for me was that I knew even then, knew fully

and for certain, that I needed nothing of all this really, that I did not really

want to crush, to subdue, to attract them, and that I did not care a straw

really for the result, even if I did achieve it. Oh, how I prayed for the day

to pass quickly! In unutterable anguish I went to the window, opened the

movable pane and looked out into the troubled darkness of the thickly

falling wet snow. At last my wretched little clock hissed out five. I seized

my hat and, trying not to look at Apollon, who had been all day

expecting his month's wages, but in his foolishness was unwilling to be

the first to speak about it, I slipped between him and the door and,

jumping into a high-class sledge, on which I spent my last half rouble, I

drove up in grand style to the Hotel de Paris.

IV

I had been certain the day before that I should be the first to arrive. But it

was not a question of being the first to arrive. Not only were they not

there, but I had difficulty in finding our room. The table was not laid

even. What did it mean? After a good many questions I elicited from the

waiters that the dinner had been ordered not for five, but for six o'clock.

This was confirmed at the buffet too. I felt really ashamed to go on

questioning them. It was only twenty-five minutes past five. If they

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