the forged coupon()-第32章
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Kukonskaya Street； Abromov's house。 She was living under this name。
He left the gardens and called a cab。
〃Whom do you wish to see； sir？〃 asked the midwife； Maria Ivanovna；
when he stepped on the narrow landing of the steep； stuffy staircase。
〃Does Madame Silvestrova live here？〃
〃Vera Ivanovna？ Yes； please come in。 She has gone out； she's gone
to the shop round the corner。 But she'll be back in a minute。〃
Michael Ivanovich followed the stout figure of Maria Ivanovna into a
tiny parlour； and from the next room came the screams of a baby； sounding
cross and peevish； which filled him with disgust。 They cut him like a
knife。
Maria Ivanovna apologised； and went into the room； and he could hear
her soothing the child。 The child became quiet； and she returned。
〃That is her baby； she'll be back in a minute。 You are a friend of hers；
I suppose？〃
〃Yesa friendbut I think I had better come back later on；〃 said
Michael Ivanovich； preparing to go。 It was too unbearable； this
preparation to meet her； and any explanation seemed impossible。
He had just turned to leave； when he heard quick； light steps on the
stairs； and he recognised Lisa's voice。
〃Maria Ivanovnahas he been crying while I've been goneI was〃
Then she saw her father。 The parcel she was carrying fell from her
hands。
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〃Father！〃 she cried； and stopped in the doorway； white and trembling。
He remained motionless； staring at her。 She had grown so thin。 Her
eyes were larger； her nose sharper； her hands worn and bony。 He neither
knew what to do； nor what to say。 He forgot all his grief about his
dishonour。 He only felt sorrow； infinite sorrow for her； sorrow for her
thinness； and for her miserable rough clothing； and most of all； for her
pitiful face and imploring eyes。
〃Fatherforgive；〃 she said； moving towards him。
〃Forgiveforgive me；〃 he murmured； and he began to sob like a child；
kissing her face and hands； and wetting them with his tears。
In his pity for her he understood himself。 And when he saw himself
as he was； he realised how he had wronged her； how guilty he had been in
his pride； in his coldness； even in his anger towards her。 He was glad that
it was he who was guilty； and that he had nothing to forgive； but that he
himself needed forgiveness。 She took him to her tiny room； and told him
how she lived； but she did not show him the child； nor did she mention the
past； knowing how painful it would be to him。
He told her that she must live differently。
〃Yes； if I could only live in the country；〃 said she。
〃We will talk it over；〃 he said。 Suddenly the child began to wail and
to scream。 She opened her eyes very wide； and； not taking them from her
father's face； remained hesitating and motionless。
〃WellI suppose you must feed him；〃 said Michael Ivanovich； and
frowned with the obvious effort。
She got up； and suddenly the wild idea seized her to show him whom
she loved so deeply the thing she now loved best of all in the world。 But
first she looked at her father's face。 Would he be angry or not？ His face
revealed no anger； only suffering。
〃Yes； go； go；〃 said he； 〃God bless you。 Yes。 I'll come again to…
morrow； and we will decide。 Good…bye； my darling good…bye。〃 Again
he found it hard to swallow the lump in his throat。
When Michael Ivanovich returned to his brother's house； Alexandra
Dmitrievna immediately rushed to him。
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〃Well？〃
〃Well？ Nothing。〃
〃Have you seen？〃 she asked； guessing from his expression that
something had happened。
〃Yes；〃 he answered shortly； and began to cry。 〃I'm getting old and
stupid；〃 said he； mastering his emotion。
〃No； you are growing wisevery wise。〃
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THERE ARE NO GUILTY
PEOPLE
I
MINE is a strange and wonderful lot！ The chances are that there is
not a single wretched beggar suffering under the luxury and oppression of
the rich who feels anything like as keenly as I do either the injustice； the
cruelty； and the horror of their oppression of and contempt for the poor； or
the grinding humiliation and misery which befall the great majority of the
workers； the real producers of all that makes life possible。 I have felt this
for a long time； and as the years have passed by the feeling has grown and
grown； until recently it reached its climax。 Although I feel all this so
vividly； I still live on amid the depravity and sins of rich society； and I
cannot leave it； because I have neither the knowledge nor the strength to
do so。 I cannot。 I do not know how to change my life so that my physical
needsfood； sleep； clothing； my going to and fro may be satisfied
without a sense of shame and wrongdoing in the position which I fill。
There was a time when I tried to change my position； which was not in
harmony with my conscience； but the conditions created by the past； by
my family and its claims upon me； were so complicated that they would
not let me out of their grasp； or rather； I did not know how to free myself。 I
had not the strength。 Now that I am over eighty and have become feeble；
I have given up trying to free myself； and； strange to say； as my feebleness
increases I realise more and more strongly the wrongfulness of my
position； and it grows more and more intolerable to me。
It has occurred to me that I do not occupy this position for nothing：
that Providence intended that I should lay bare the truth of my feelings； so
that I might atone for all that causes my suffering； and might perhaps open
the eyes of thoseor at least of some of those who are still blind to what
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I see so clearly； and thus might lighten the burden of that vast majority
who； under existing conditions； are subjected to bodily and spiritual
suffering by those who deceive them and also deceive themselves。
Indeed； it may be that the position which I occupy gives me special
facilities for revealing the artificial and criminal relations which exist
between men for telling the whole truth in regard to that position without
confusing the issue by attempting to vindicate myself； and without rousing
the envy of the rich and feelings of oppression in the hearts of the poor
and downtrodden。 I am so placed that I not only have no desire to
vindicate myself； but； on the contrary； I find it necessary to make an effort
lest I should exaggerate the wickedness of the great among whom I live； of
whose society I am ashamed； whose attitude towards their fellow…men I
detest with my whole soul； though I find it impossible to separate my lot
from th
