III
These letters, absolutely sincere, were really somewhat warped, as Viéra Pavlovna herself noticed. Both correspondents of course were trying to diminish for each other the strength of the heavy shocks which they experienced. Oh, these people are shrewd! I have often heard from them—that is, from them and people of their stamp—such things as made me laugh in spite of their pathetical assurances that, such and such a thing was easy to endure. Of course I laughed when the assurances were made before me who was a stranger to them and talking with them in tête-à-tête. And when the very same thing was said to a man who had to listen to it, then I used to admit that such and such things were really trifles. An honorable man is a most amusing creature. I always used to laugh at all the honorable men with whom I was acquainted. A most amusing creature, even to the point of absurdity! Here, let us take these letters. I am partially used to tricks of this sort, even while entertaining friendship with such gentlemen and ladies. Well (nu), but what effect can they have on a man who is inexperienced and as yet unspoiled, as, for instance, the sapient reader?
The sapient reader already is clearing his mouth of the napkin, and, while shaking his head, says:—
“Immorality!”
“You are a fine fellow! You have hit it!” I reply in praise of him. “Well [nu], make me happy with another little word!”
“Yes, the author himself is an immoral man,” declares the sapient reader. “Just see what things he approves of!”
“No, my precious, you are mistaken. There are many things that I do not approve of here. Possibly I do not approve of any of it, if you desire to hear the truth. All this is too much idealized, too ecstatic! Life is much simpler.”
“Then you must be still more immoral, must you not?” demands the sapient reader, opening wide eyes of astonishment at the incomprehensible degree of immorality to which humanity has fallen in my personage!
“Much more immoral,” I say, uncertain whether the sapient reader will accept it as truth or will ridicule it.
This correspondence lasted for three or four months—actively on the part of Kirsánof, but carelessly and briefly on the part of their correspondent. Afterwards he entirely ceased to answer their letters, and it could be seen by all that his sole idea was to impart to Viéra Pavlovna and her husband thoughts of Lopukhóf, which made up the long letter which he wrote first, and after fulfilling this obligation he considered the further correspondence unnecessary. After two or three of Kirsánof’s letters remained unanswered, he understood it so and ceased to write.