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CHAPTER XXVIII. cost of human hair wigs


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"Shameful and stupid, horrid and shameful!" Nekhludoff keptsaying to himself, as he walked home along the familiar streets.The depression he had felt whilst speaking to Missy would notleave him. He felt that, looking at it externally, as it were, hewas in the right, for he had never said anything to her thatcould be considered binding, never made her an offer; but he knewthat in reality he had bound himself to her, had promised to behers. And yet to-day he felt with his whole being that he couldnot marry her.

"Shameful and horrid, horrid and shameful!" he repeated tohimself, with reference not only to his relations with Missy butalso to the rest. "Everything is horrid and shameful," hemuttered, as he stepped into the porch of his house. "I am notgoing to have any supper," he said to his manservant Corney, whofollowed him into the dining-room, where the cloth was laid forsupper and tea. "You may go."

"Yes, sir," said Corney, yet he did not go, but began clearingthe supper off the table. Nekhludoff looked at Corney with afeeling of ill-will. He wished to be left alone, and it seemed tohim that everybody was bothering him in order to spite him. WhenCorney had gone away with the supper things, Nekhludoff moved tothe tea urn and was about to make himself some tea, but hearingAgraphena Petrovna's footsteps, he went hurriedly into thedrawing-room, to avoid being seen by her, and shut the door afterhim. In this drawing-room his mother had died three monthsbefore. On entering the room, in which two lamps with reflectorswere burning, one lighting up his father's and the other hismother's portrait, he remembered what his last relations with hismother had been. And they also seemed shameful and horrid. Heremembered how, during the latter period of her illness, he hadsimply wished her to die. He had said to himself that he wishedit for her sake, that she might be released from her suffering,but in reality he wished to be released from the sight of hersufferings for his own sake.

Trying to recall a pleasant image of her, he went up to look ather portrait, painted by a celebrated artist for 800 roubles. Shewas depicted in a very low-necked black velvet dress. There wassomething very revolting and blasphemous in this representationof his mother as a half-nude beauty. It was all the moredisgusting because three months ago, in this very room, lay thissame woman, dried up to a mummy. And he remembered how a few daysbefore her death she clasped his hand with her bony, discolouredfingers, looked into his eyes, and said: "Do not judge me, Mitia,if I have not done what I should," and how the tears came intoher eyes, grown pale with suffering. images of human hair wigs

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