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 tence—for Stepan Arkadyevitch acted in a manner quite contrary to his expectations. Stepan Arkadyevitch sank into an arm-chair, with a deep sigh.

"Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, it can't be possible," he cried, with pain expressed in his face.

"It is true."

"Pardon me. I cannot, I cannot believe it."

Alekseï Aleksandrovitch sat down; he felt that his words had not produced the effect that he had looked for, and that whatever explanation he might make his relations with Oblonsky would remain the same.

"Yes, it is a cruel necessity, but I am forced to demand the divorce," he replied.

"I will say only one thing to you, Alekseï Aleksandrovitch. I know that you are a man of principle, and I know Anna is one of the best of women,—excuse me if I cannot change my opinion of her,—I cannot believe it; there must be some misunderstanding!"

"Yes; if it were only a misunderstanding!" ....

"Excuse me; I understand; but I beg of you, I beg of you, do not be in haste," interrupted Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"I have done nothing hastily," said Alekseï Aleksandrovitch, coldly; "but in such a case, one cannot ask advice of anybody; I am decided."

"This is terrible," exclaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch, with a deep sigh. "I would do one thing, Alekseï Aleksandrovitch. I beseech you to do this!" said he. "Proceedings, as I understand, have not yet begun. Before you do anything talk with my wife. She loves Anna like a sister, she loves you, and she is a woman of good sense. For God's sake, talk with her. Do me this favor, I beg of you."

Alekseï Aleksandrovitch deliberated, and Stepan Arkadyevitch looked at him sympathetically, not breaking in on his silence.

"Will you come to her?"

"Well, I don't know. That is the reason I did not call at your house. I suppose our relations ought to be broken off."