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* * *
They sent the regiment into campaign,
in order that you did not wait for me.
M.Y. Lermontov
Mikhail Dmitrievich, my dear!
It’s of course all very touching what you write, but I’m not that type. I have a tough character, but I can’t cope with everything, they all leave me from subordination. Mitya is a sliced loaf. What is going on with this person, I can’t understand. In the day he is drunk. He comes in at six in the morning, he doesn’t come into the room, but frankly collapses in the kitchen. Fine, I get up earlier than the neighbours, but we don’t indeed invite trouble or scandal. But today, I will tell you more; I go along the corridor, I hear a commotion, I enter, someone, someone’s shadow, a sudden appearance and through the dark way. Mitya, who is it? He stands with a b
