OfcourseKostiaandKittyhavesomuchtactthatwedon’tfeelit；butitcan’tgoon。They’llhavechildren，theywon’tbeabletokeepus；it’sadragonthemasitis。Howispapa，whohashardlyanythingleftforhimself，tohelpus？SothatIcan’tevenbringthechildrenupbymyself，andmayfindithardwiththehelpofotherpeople，atthecostofhumiliation。
Why，evenifwesupposethegreatestgoodluck，thatthechildrendon’tdie，andIbringthemupsomehow。Attheverybestthey’llsimplybedecentpeople。That’sallIcanhopefor。Andtogainsimplythat-whatagonies，whattoil！……One’swholeliferuined！’Againsherecalledwhattheyoungpeasantwomanhadsaid，andagainshewasrevoltedatthethought；butshecouldnothelpadmittingthattherewasagrainofbrutaltruthinthewords。
`Isitfarnow，Mikhaila？’DaryaAlexandrovnaaskedthecountinghouseclerk，toturnhermindfromthoughtsthatwerefrighteningher。
`Fromthisvillage，theysay，it’ssevenverstas。’
Thecarriagedrovealongthevillagestreetandontoabridge。