They used to say I was brave about the wounded, brave at S----, brave at operations ...

if they only knew! You only, Ivan Andreievitch, have seen me afraid, you only!..." She looked at me, her eyes searching my face: "Isn't it strange that you who do not love me know me, perhaps, better than John--and yes, better than Alexei.
That's why I tell you--I can talk to you.

I never could talk to women--I never cared for women.

You and John for my friends--yes, I am indeed happy!" She got up from the old sofa, walked a little about the room, looked at the remains of the meal, at the book, then turned round to me: "Don't ever tell any one, Ivan Andreievitch, that I have been afraid....

I'm never to be afraid again.