My hands are trembling, and I am quite in a fever…. My face burns. It is time to stop…. I’ll send off this letter quickly, before I’m ashamed of its feebleness. But for God’s sake, in your answer not a word—do you hear?—not a word of sympathy, or I’ll never write to you again. Understand me: I should not like you to take this letter as the outpouring of a misunderstood soul, complaining…. Ah! I don’t care!—Good-bye.
M.
VIII
FROM ALEXEY PETROVITCH TO MARYA ALEXANDROVNA
ST. PETERSBURG, May 28, 1840.
Marya Alexandrovna, you are a splendid person … you … your letter revealed the truth to me at last! My God! what suffering! A man is constantly thinking that now at last he has reached simplicity, that he’s no longer showing off, humbugging, lying … but when you come to look at him more atte
