Poor Folk

Chapter 7

Everything with me is going well; so pray do not be anxious on my

account, beloved. What Thedora told you about me was sheer

rubbish. Tell her from me that she has not been speaking the

truth. Yes, do not fail to give this mischief-maker my message.

It is not the case that I have gone and sold a new uniform. Why

should I do so, seeing that I have forty roubles of salary still

to come to me? Do not be uneasy, my darling. Thedora is a

vindictive woman--merely a vindictive woman. We shall yet see

better days. Only do you get well, my angel--only do you get

well, for the love of God, lest you grieve an old man. Also, who

told you that I was looking thin? Slanders again--nothing but

slanders! I am as healthy as could be, and have grown so fat that

I am ashamed to be so sleek of paunch. Would that you were

equally healthy! . . . Now goodbye, my angel. I kiss every one of

your tiny fingers, and remain ever your constant friend,

MAKAR DIEVUSHKIN.

P.S.--But what is this, dearest one, that you have written to me?

Why do you place me upon such a pedestal? Moreover, how could I

come and visit you frequently? How, I repeat? Of course, I might

avail myself of the cover of night; but, alas! the season of the

year is what it is, and includes no night time to speak of. In

fact, although, throughout your illness and delirium, I scarcely

left your side for a moment, I cannot think how I contrived to do

the many things that I did. Later, I ceased to visit you at all,

for the reason that people were beginning to notice things, and

to ask me questions. Yet, even so, a scandal has arisen. Theresa

I trust thoroughly, for she is not a talkative woman; but

consider how it will be when the truth comes out in its entirety!

What THEN will folk not say and think? Nevertheless, be of good

cheer, my beloved, and regain your health. When you have done so

we will contrive to arrange a rendezvous out of doors.