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With such a view of life, she was by no means the lowest, but avery important person. And Maslova prized this view of life morethan anything; she could not but prize it, for, if she lost theimportance that such a view of life gave her among men, she wouldlose the meaning of her life. And, in order not to lose themeaning of her life, she instinctively clung to the set thatlooked at life in the same way as she did. Feeling thatNekhludoff wanted to lead her out into another world, sheresisted him, foreseeing that she would have to lose her place inlife, with the self-possession and self-respect it gave her. Forthis reason she drove from her the recollections of her earlyyouth and her first relations with Nekhludoff. Theserecollections did not correspond with her present conception ofthe world, and were therefore quite rubbed out of her mind, or,rather, lay somewhere buried and untouched, closed up andplastered over so that they should not escape, as when bees, inorder to protect the result of their labour, will sometimesplaster a nest of worms. Therefore, the present Nekhludoff wasnot the man she had once loved with a pure love, but only a richgentleman whom she could, and must, make use of, and with whomshe could only have the same relations as with men in general. r wiggins jockey

"No, I could not tell her the chief thing," thought Nekhludoff,moving towards the front doors with the rest of the people. "Idid not tell her that I would marry her; I did not tell her so,but I will," he thought.

The two warders at the door let out the visitors, counting themagain, and touching each one with their hands, so that no extraperson should go out, and none remain within. The slap on hisshoulder did not offend Nekhludoff this time; he did not evennotice it. swig


CHAPTER XLV. r wiggles


Nekhludoff meant to rearrange the whole of his external life, tolet his large house and move to an hotel, but Agraphena Petrovnapointed out that it was useless to change anything before thewinter. No one would rent a town house for the summer; anyhow, hewould have to live and keep his things somewhere. And so all hisefforts to change his manner of life (he meant to live moresimply: as the students live) led to nothing. Not only dideverything remain as it was, but the house was suddenly filledwith new activity. All that was made of wool or fur was taken outto be aired and beaten. The gate-keeper, the boy, the cook, andCorney himself took part in this activity. All sorts of strangefurs, which no one ever used, and various uniforms were taken outand hung on a line, then the carpets and furniture were broughtout, and the gate-keeper and the boy rolled their sleeves uptheir muscular arms and stood beating these things, keepingstrict time, while the rooms were filled with the smell ofnaphthaline.

When Nekhludoff crossed the yard or looked out of the window andsaw all this going on, he was surprised at the great number ofthings there were, all quite useless. Their only use, Nekhludoffthought, was the providing of exercise for Agraphena Petrovna,Corney, the gate-keeper, the boy, and the cook.

"But it's not worth while altering my manner of life now," hethought, "while Maslova's case is not decided. Besides, it is toodifficult. It will alter of itself when she will be set free orexiled, and I follow her."

On the appointed day Nekhludoff drove up to the advocateFanarin's own splendid house, which was decorated with huge palmsand other plants, and wonderful curtains, in fact, with all theexpensive luxury witnessing to the possession of much idle money,i.e., money acquired without labour, which only those possess whogrow rich suddenly. In the waiting-room, just as in a doctor'swaiting-room, he found many dejected-looking people sitting roundseveral tables, on which lay illustrated papers meant to amusethem, awaiting their turns to be admitted to the advocate. Theadvocate's assistant sat in the room at a high desk, and havingrecognised Nekhludoff, he came up to him and said he would go andannounce him at once. But the assistant had not reached the doorbefore it opened and the sounds of loud, animated voices wereheard; the voice of a middle-aged, sturdy merchant, with a redface and thick moustaches, and the voice of Fanarin himself.Fanarin was also a middle-aged man of medium height, with a wornlook on his face. Both faces bore the expression which you see onthe faces of those who have just concluded a profitable but notquite honest transaction.

"Your own fault, you know, my dear sir," Fanarin said, smiling.

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