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 friends as it is, and I don't need any more. It's not very nice for me to have you continually following me, and as you seem to be a respectable young man, I ask you now not to do so any more. I shouldn't like any of my friends to notice it and think badly of me."

The young man walking beside her listened attentively to what she said, and did not try to interrupt her. When she had finished it seemed as if he thought he had given her an answer, and Mashenka suddenly thought to herself:

"Now he will raise his hat and go away and never try to see me any more."

And this thought, which should have soothed and calmed her, somehow made her feel suddenly annoyed and sad about something—as if she had become quite accustomed to her silent, ugly, awkward companion and didn't want him to leave her. However he acted quite differently from what she had thought. He did raise his hat, but only to say:

"Allow me, Marya Constantìnovna, to have the honour of introducing myself to you—Nikolai Stepanovitch Sklonyaef."

Mashenka shrugged her shoulders.

"It's no use your introducing yourself,"