'My dear boy!
I guessed it long ago.
May God keep you.
Only take good care of our treasure!'
Three months later the angelic treasure was going about the house in a shabby dressing-gown and slippers on her bare feet, her thin hair unkempt and hung with curl-papers. She wrangled with orderlies like a fishwife and made a fool of herself with young officers, lisping, giggling, rolling her eyes.
In the presence of others she for some reason called me Jacques, pronouncing it with a languid, long-drawn nasal twang,
'Oh, Ja-a-acques.'
A spendthrift and a hypocrite, slovenly and greedy.
And her eyes were always so insincere.
It's all over now, finished and done with.
I'm even grateful to that wretched actor.
It was lucky we had no children."
"Did you forgive them, Grandad?"
" 'Forgive' isn't the word, Vera dear.
At first I was like a madman.
If I'd seen them then I'd certainly have killed them.
Then the whole thing gradually wore off, and nothing was left but contempt.
So much the better.
God warded off useless bloodshed.
Besides, I was spared the lot of most husbands.
Indeed, what would have become of me if it hadn't been for that disgusting incident?
A pack-camel, a despicable abettor and protector, a milk cow, a screen, some sort of household utensil.
No!
It's all for the best, Vera."
"No, no, Grandad, the old grievance still rankles in your heart, if you'll allow me to say so.
And you extend your own unhappy experience to all mankind.
Take Vasya and me.
You couldn't call our marriage an unhappy one, could you?"
Anosov did not speak for a while.
"All right, let's say your case is an exception," he said at length reluctantly.
"But why do people generally get married?
Let's take the woman.
She's ashamed of remaining single, especially after all her friends have married.
It's unbearable to be a burden on the family.
She wants to be mistress of the house, mother of a family, enjoy independence.
Then there's the need — the outright physical need — for motherhood, and for making a nest of her own.
Men's motives are different.
First of all they get sick of their bachelor life, the disorder in their rooms, restaurant meals, dirt, cigarette ends, torn or unmatching linen, debts, unceremonious friends, and so on, and so forth.
Secondly, they feel that it's healthier and more economical to live in a family.
In the third place, they think that after they've died, a part of them will be left in their children — an illusion of immortality.
In the fourth place, there's the temptation of innocence, as in my case.
And sometimes there is the consideration of a nice dowry.
But where does love come in?
Disinterested, self-sacrificing love that expects no reward?
The love said to be 'stronger than death'?
I mean that kind of love for which it's not an effort but sheer joy to perform any feat, give your life, accept martyrdom.
Wait, Vera, are you going to talk to me about your Vasya again?
Believe me, I like him.
He's all right.
Who knows if the future may not show his love in a light of great beauty.