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Besides, whom should I be left with? Such was the retired lieutenant, Ivan Semyonitch. Kolosov used to go and see him, not on his account, of course, but for the sake of his daughter. One fine evening, Andrei was sitting in the garden with her, chatting about something; Ivan Semyonitch went up to him, looked sullenly at Varia, and called Andrei away.
'In one word, Kolosov was the soul of our set. I was attached to him by a feeling stronger than any I have ever felt for any woman. And yet, I don't feel ashamed even now to remember that strange love yes, love it was, for I recollect I went through at that time all the tortures of that passion, jealousy, for instance.
She grew a little thinner during the first days of our acquaintance ... but afterwards got better again, and even grew cheerful; she might have been compared then with a wounded bird, not yet quite recovered. Meanwhile my position had become insupportable; the lowest passions gradually gained possession of my soul; it happened to me to slander Kolosov in Varia's presence.
I shall pass you off as a relation of mine you must sit down and play at cards with him. I nodded without a word. I wanted to show Kolosov that I could be as silent as Gavrilov.... But I will own I was suffering agonies of curiosity. As we went up to the steps of the house, I caught sight, at a lighted window, of the slender figure of a girl.... She seemed waiting for us and vanished at once.
'Get on! get on! we objected plaintively. 'I see, gentlemen, you don't care for the agreeable, and cling solely to the profitable. As you please! We groped our way through a dark and narrow passage to Kolosov's room; we went in. You have most likely an approximate idea of what a poor student's room is like. Directly facing the door Kolosov was sitting on a chest of drawers, smoking a pipe.
Yet all the while Shtchitov himself did nothing and learnt nothing.... But that's all in the natural order of things. Well, Shtchitov, God only knows why, began jeering at my romantic attachment to Kolosov.
Kolosov quarrelled with her and made it up again half a dozen times in a month. She was passionately fond of him, though sometimes, during their misunderstandings, she would vow and declare that she thirsted for his blood.... And Andrei, too, could not get on without her. Kolosov looked at me, and responded serenely, 'Perhaps so. 'Not perhaps so, I shouted, 'but certainly!
'Well, well, come and see us; but it's no use your sticking on here now, I daresay they're expecting you at home. Kolosov retreated, said good-bye to Matrona Semyonovna, bowed to Varvara Ivanovna, and returned home. From that day he began to visit Ivan Semyonitch, at first at long intervals, then more and more frequently.
Meanwhile time went on.... They were happy.... I have no great fondness for describing other people's happiness. But then I began to notice that Varia's childish ecstasy had gradually given way to a more womanly, more restless feeling. I began to surmise that the new song was being sung to the old tune that is, that Kolosov was...little by little...cooling.
I leaped up and flung myself on his breast. My genuine delight touched him.... I did not know what to say, I was choking.... Kolosov looked at me and softly laughed. We had tea. At tea he talked of Gavrilov; I heard that that timid, gentle boy had saved Kolosov's life, and I could not but own to myself that in Gavrilov's place I couldn't have resisted chattering about it boasting of my luck.
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