"Anything, only not divorce!" answered Darya Alexandrovna "But what is anything?"

"No, it is awful! She will be no one's wife, she will be lost!"

"What can I do?" said Alexey Alexandrovitch, raising his

shoulders and his eyebrows. The recollection of his wife's last

act had so incensed him that he had become frigid, as at the

beginning of the conversation. "I am very grateful for your

sympathy, but I must be going," he said, getting up.

"No, wait a minute. You must not ruin her. Wait a little; I

will tell you about myself. I was married, and my husband

deceived me; in anger and jealousy, I would have thrown up

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everything, I would myself.... But I came to myself again; and

who did it? Anna saved me. And here I am living on. The

children are growing up, my husband has come back to his family,

and feels his fault, is growing purer, better, and I live on....

I have forgiven it, and you ought to forgive!"

Alexey Alexandrovitch heard her, but her words had no effect on

him now. All the hatred of that day when he had resolved on a

divorce had sprung up again in his soul. He shook himself, and

said in a shrill, loud voice:-"Forgive I cannot, and do not wish to, and I regard it as wrong.

I have done everything for this woman, and she has trodden it all

in the mud to which she is akin. I am not a spiteful man, I have

never hated anyone, but I hate her with my whole soul, and I

cannot even forgive her, because I hate her too much for all the

wrong she has done me!" he said, with tones of hatred in his

voice.

"Love those that hate you...." Darya Alexandrovna whispered

timorously.

Alexey Alexandrovitch smiled contemptuously. That he knew long

ago, but it could not be applied to his case.

"Love those that hate you, but to love those one hates is

impossible. Forgive me for having troubled you. Everyone has

enough to bear in his own grief!" And regaining his

self-possession, Alexey Alexandrovitch quietly took leave and

went away.




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