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Updated: May 11, 2025
'Unhappy Clara! poor frantic Clara! was echoing in his soul. The following day Aratov spent, however, fairly quietly. He was even able to give his mind to his ordinary occupations. But there was one thing: both during his work and during his leisure he was continually thinking of Clara, of what Kupfer had told him the evening before.
Aratov was walking by her side, a little behind her; he could not see her face; he saw only her hat and part of her veil ... and her long black shabby cape. All his irritation, both with her and with himself, suddenly came back to him; all the absurdity, the awkwardness of this interview, these explanations between perfect strangers in a public promenade, suddenly struck him.
And too, he thought, in Mitskevitch: 'I will love thee to the end of time ... and beyond it! And an English writer had said: 'Love is stronger than death. The text from Scripture produced particular effect on Aratov.... He tried to find the place where the words occurred.... He had no Bible; he went to ask Platosha for one.
Aratov woke up. He sat up in bed, lighted the candle that stood on the little table by his bedside but did not get up and sat a long while, chill all over, slowly looking about him. It seemed to him as if something had happened to him since he went to bed; that something had taken possession of him ... something was in control of him. 'But is it possible? he murmured unconsciously.
Such indifference before ... and now such interest! All this, my boy, comes from too much solitude! Aratov made no reply, and went away, having provided himself with the Kazan address.
'I have come on your invitation, he began in his turn. All this little speech was delivered by Aratov in that ringing but unsteady voice in which very young people answer at examinations on a subject in which they are well prepared.... He was angry; he was furious.... It was just this fury which loosened his ordinarily not very ready tongue.
'Now, then, you must talk to the gentleman, said Madam Milovidov, getting up heavily: 'he's taken trouble enough, he's come all the way from Moscow on purpose he wants to collect information about Katia. And will you, my good sir, she added, addressing Aratov 'excuse me ... I'm going to look after my housekeeping.
There is a rumour in the town that an unfortunate love affair drove her to this terrible act. Aratov slowly laid the paper on the table. In outward appearance he remained perfectly calm ... but at once something seemed to strike him a blow in the chest and the head and slowly the shock passed on through all his limbs.
The door softly opened, and in the doorway appeared a girl no longer very young, looking ill and plain but with very soft and mournful eyes. Aratov got up from his seat to meet her, and introduced himself, mentioning his friend Kupfer. 'Ah! Fyodor Fedoritch? the girl articulated softly, and softly she sank into a chair.
All was told at last, and Kupfer was silent, rewarding himself for his exertions with a cigar. 'And why did she take poison? asked Aratov. 'In the paper it was stated.... Kupfer waved his hand. 'Well ... that I can't say ... I don't know. But the paper tells a lie. Clara's conduct was exemplary ... no love affairs of any kind.... And indeed how should there be with her pride!
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