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But the sick man will be healed and 'will sit at the feet of Jesus, and all will look upon him with astonishment.... My dear, vous comprendrez apres, but now it excites me very much.... Vous comprendrez apres. Nous comprendrons ensemble." He sank into delirium and at last lost consciousness. So it went on all the following day. Sofya Matveyevna sat beside him, crying.
"Thirty-four," said Sofya Matveyevna, smiling. "What, you understand French?" "A little. I lived for four years after that in a gentleman's family, and there I picked it up from the children." She told him that being left a widow at eighteen she was for some time in Sevastopol as a nurse, and had afterwards lived in various places, and now she travelled about selling the gospel.
"Black-haired? What exactly? Come, speak!" "How this grand lady was deeply in love with his honour all her life long and for twenty years, but never dared to speak, and was shamefaced before him because she was a very stout lady...." "The fool!" Varvara Petrovna rapped out thoughtfully but resolutely. Sofya Matveyevna was in tears by now.
Le comme il faut tout pur, but rather in a different style." He soon learned from her that her name was Sofya Matveyevna Ulitin and she lived at K , that she had a sister there, a widow; that she was a widow too, and that her husband, who was a sub-lieutenant risen from the ranks, had been killed at Sevastopol. "But you are still so young, vous n'avez pas trente ans."
And indeed I was much surprised to learn from Varvara Petrovna afterwards that he showed no fear of death at all. Possibly it was that he simply did not believe it, and still looked upon his illness as a trifling one. He confessed and took the sacrament very readily. Every one, Sofya Matveyevna, and even the servants, came to congratulate him on taking the sacrament.
At last she described how they had set off, and how Stepan Trofimovitch had gone on talking, "really ill by that time," and here had given an account of his life from the very beginning, talking for some hours. "Tell me about his life." Sofya Matveyevna suddenly stopped and was completely nonplussed.
As to certain pages, like those which describe the strange inner life of the Tsarina Marfa Matveyevna, "living by the light of candles, in an old house savouring of the oil of night-lamps, the dust and the putrification of centuries," these pages are a veritable tour de force if only because of the plasticity and richness of the author's vocabulary.
Trembling and shaking, he besought her to fetch no one, not to do anything. He kept insisting, "No one, no one! We'll be alone, by ourselves, alone, nous partirons ensemble." Another difficulty was that the people of the house too began to be uneasy; they grumbled, and kept pestering Sofya Matveyevna. She paid them and managed to let them see her money.
Poor Sofya Matveyevna did not sleep all night. As in waiting on the invalid she was obliged pretty often to go in and out of the cottage through the landlady's room, the latter, as well as the travellers who were sleeping there, grumbled and even began swearing when towards morning she set about preparing the samovar.
He suddenly recalled Lise and their meeting the previous morning. "It was so awful, and there must have been some disaster and I didn't ask, didn't find out! I thought only of myself. Oh, what's the matter with her? Do you know what's the matter with her?" he besought Sofya Matveyevna. I shall turn her my other cheek comme dans votre livre!
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