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126 has its prosaic interests, and it was about them that Lopukhóf was also thinking: that is to be taken for granted. He is a materialist, and therefore he thinks only about his interests, and in point of fact, he was all the time thinking about his own interests. Instead of lofty, poetical, and plastic imaginations, such love imaginations as are proper for a coarse materialist occupied his time.

"A sacrifice—, it will be almost impossible to get this out of her head, and this is bad. When you think that you are specially indebted to a person, your relations to this person are apt to be somewhat strained, and she may find this out. Friends may explain to her what a career was before me; and even if friends do not explain this to her, she will find it out for herself. She will say, 'My dear, here you have given up for my sake the career which you anticipated.' Well, I don't mean money, for neither my friends nor she herself will think that I care about that. Well, it's a good thing that she will not say to herself, 'He remained for my sake in poverty when otherwise he might have been rich.' This she will not think; but she may learn that I longed for scientific fame, and that I might have won it. But she will find something to worry about: 'Akh! what a sacrifice he made for my sake!' And I never thought of making a sacrifice; I was never so foolish as to make sacrifices, and I hope I never shall be. I have done what was for my best good. I am not a man to offer sacrifices; and there are no such men in existence. It is a false term; a sacrifice is equivalent to such nonsense as 'top-boots with soft-boiled eggs!' One acts in the way that's most agreeable; now just go ahead and preach this. It is accepted in theory, but when the hard fact comes before a person, he is humiliated. 'You,' he says, 'are my benefactor,' and already the blade has shown itself. 'You,' he says, 'have rescued me from the cellar. How kind you are to me!' Why should I have bothered to set you free, if I myself had not liked to do it? Is it I who set you free, think you? Do you think that I should take all this trouble, unless it had afforded me myself some satisfaction? Maybe I have set myself free; of course. I have. I myself want to live, want to love; do you understand? I am doing everything for myself. Now, how can I manage so as not to arouse this pernicious feeling of gratefulness which would be so trying to her? Well, we'll manage it somehow. She is sensible, and will understand that it is a