Resurrection

Once only, when, after the war, he went to see his aunts in hopes

of meeting Katusha, and heard that soon after his last visit she

had left, and that his aunts had heard she had been confined

somewhere or other and had gone quite to the bad, his heart

ached. According to the time of her confinement, the child might

or might not have been his. His aunts said she had gone wrong,

that she had inherited her mother's depraved nature, and he was

pleased to hear this opinion of his aunts'. It seemed to acquit

him. At first he thought of trying to find her and her child, but

then, just because in the depths of his soul he felt so ashamed

and pained when thinking about her, he did not make the necessary

effort to find her, but tried to forget his sin again and ceased

to think about it. And now this strange coincidence brought it

all back to his memory, and demanded from him the acknowledgment

of the heartless, cruel cowardice which had made it possible for

him to live these nine years with such a sin on his conscience.

But he was still far from such an acknowledgment, and his only

fear was that everything might now be found out, and that she or

her advocate might recount it all and put him to shame before

every one present.