And how strange it is that through all the tragedy one can only truly see one's own little affairs, and only feel one's own little troubles and joys.

That's bad ...

one should be punished for that!" I loved her at that moment; I felt bitterly, I remember, that I, because I was plain and a cripple, silent and uninteresting, would never win the love of such women.

I remembered little Andrey Vassilievitch's words about his wife: "For me she cared as good women care for the poor." In that way for me too women would care--when they cared at all.

And always, all my life, it would be like that.