"You know very well that it is not that!" said Novikoff, as his lips
trembled.
"Ah! yes, but it is!" cried Sanine. "What else could it be, pray?"
Novikoff was silent. All was darkness within his Soul, yet, as a
distant ray of light through the gloom there came the thought of pardon
and self-sacrifice.
Sanine, watching him, seemed to read what was passing through his mind.
"I see," he began, in a subdued tone, "that you Contemplate sacrificing
yourself for her. 'I will descend to her level, and protect her from
the mob,' and so on. That's what you are saying to your virtuous self,
waxing big in your own eyes as a worm does in carrion. But it's all a
sham; nothing else but a lie! You're not in the least capable of self-
sacrifice. If, for instance, Lida had been disfigured by small-pox,
perhaps you might have worked yourself up to such a deed of heroism.
But after a couple of days you would have embittered her life, either
spurning her or deserting her, or overwhelming her reproaches. At
present your attitude towards yourself is one of adoration, as if you
were an ikon. Yes, yes, your face is transfigured, and every one
would say, 'Oh! look, there's a saint.' Yet you have lost nothing which
you desired. Lida's limbs are the same as before; so are her passion
and her splendid vitality. But of course, it is extremely convenient
and also agreeable to provide oneself with enjoyment while piously
imagining that one is doing a noble deed. I should rather say it was!"
At these words, Novikoff's self-pity gave place to a nobler sentiment.
"You take me to be worse than I am," he said reproachfully. "I am not
so wanting in feeling as you think. I won't deny that I have certain
prejudices, but I love Lida Petrovna, and if I were quite sure that she
loved me, do you think that I should take a long while to make up my
mind, because ..."
His voice failed him at this last word.
Sanine suddenly became quite calm. Crossing the room, he stood at the
open window, lost in thought.
"Just now she is very sad," he said, "and will hardly be thinking of
love. If she loves you or not, how can I tell? But it seems to me that
if you came to her as the second man who did not condemn her for her
brief amour, well.... Anyway, there's no knowing what she'll say!"