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Terentyevna has certainly sworn to make an end of me. Here's a specimen of our conversation: TERENTYEVNA. Oh oh, my good sir! what are you for ever writing for? it's bad for you, keeping all on writing. I. But I'm dull, Terentyevna. SHE. Oh, you take a cup of tea now and lie down. By God's mercy you'll get in a sweat and maybe doze a bit. I. But I'm not sleepy. SHE. Ah, sir! why do you talk so?
Farewell, Terentyevna!... This morning as she sat at the window she was crying ... perhaps over me ... and perhaps because she too will soon have to die. I have made her promise not to kill Tresor.
March 29. A slight frost; yesterday it was thawing. Yesterday I had not the strength to go on with my diary; like Poprishtchin, I lay, for the most part, on my bed, and talked to Terentyevna. What a woman!
And that I propose to show to-morrow, as I keep coughing to-day like an old sheep, and my nurse, Terentyevna, gives me no peace: 'Lie down, my good sir, she says, 'and drink a little tea.... I know why she keeps on at me: she wants some tea herself. Well! she's welcome!
Terentyevna noticed to-day that my nose has already begun to grow sharp; and that, they say, is a bad sign. March 27. Thaw continuing. Things were in the position described above: the prince and Liza were in love with each other; the old Ozhogins were waiting to see what would come of it; Bizmyonkov was present at the proceedings there was nothing else to be said of him.
Lord have mercy on you! Come, lie down, lie down; it's better for you. I. I shall die any way, Terentyevna! SHE. Lord bless us and save us!... Well, do you want a little tea? I. I shan't live through the week, Terentyevna! SHE. Eh, eh! good sir, why do you talk so?... Well, I'll go and heat the samovar. Oh, decrepit, yellow, toothless creature! Am I really, even in your eyes, not a man? March 24.
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