ROSE BEDDING : Semyonitch's presence Musotchka is all veneration, all tremor and enthusiasm!' 'That's just what's wrong, Nikander Vavilitch, that she is, as you say, all tremor. If you love any one you don't feel tremors in their presence.' 'But with that I can't agree! Here am I, for instance; no one, I suppose, could love Paramon Semyonitch more than I, but I ... tremble before him.' 'Oh, you--that's a different matter.' 'How is it a rose bedding matter? how? how?' interrupted Punin. I simply did not know him; he got hot, and serious, almost angry, and quite dropped his rhythmic sing-song in speaking. 'No,' he declared; 'I notice
ROSE BEDDING : that you have not a good eye for character! No; you can't read people's hearts!' I rose bedding up contradicting him ... and to give another turn to the conversation, proposed, for the sake of old times, that we should read something together. Punin was silent for a while. 'One of the old poets? The real ones?' he asked at last. 'No; a new one.' 'A new one?' Punin repeated mistrustfully. 'Pushkin,' I answered. I suddenly thought of the _Gypsies_ which Tarhov had mentioned not long before. There, by the way, is the ballad about the old husband. Punin grumbled a little, but I sat him down on the
ROSE BEDDING : sofa, so that he could listen more comfortably, and began to read Pushkin's poem. The passage came at last, 'old husband, cruel husband'; Punin heard the ballad through to the end, and all at once he got up impulsively. 'I can't,' he pronounced, with an intense emotion, which impressed even me;--'excuse me; I cannot hear more of that author. He is an immoral slanderer; he is a liar ... rose bedding upsets me. I cannot! Permit me to cut short my visit to-day.' I began trying to persuade Punin to remain; but he insisted on having his own way with a sort of stupid, scared obstinacy: he repeated several
ROSE BEDDING : times that he felt upset, and wished to get a breath of fresh air--and all the while his lips were faintly quivering and his eyes avoided mine, as though I had wounded him. So he rose bedding away. A little while after, I too went out of the house and set off to see Tarhov. * * * * * Without inquiring of any one, with a student's usual lack of ceremony, I walked straight into his lodgings. In the first room there was no one. I called Tarhov by name, and receiving no answer, was just going to retreat; but the door of the adjoining room opened, and my friend
ROSE BEDDING : appeared. He looked at me rather queerly, rose bedding shook hands without speaking. I had come to him to repeat all I had heard from Punin; and though I felt at once that I had called on Tarhov at the wrong moment, still, after talking a little about extraneous matters, I ended by informing him of Baburin's intentions in regard to Musa. This piece of news did not, apparently, surprise him much; he quietly sat down at the table, and fixing his eyes intently upon me, and keeping silent as before, gave to his features an expression ... an expression, as though
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