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well dressed； and avoid making such mistakes in French as would
shame him before strangers； he would never admit that they could
think or feel like human beings； still less that they could
converse with him sensibly about anything。 Whenever they
addressed to him a serious question （a thing； by the way； which
he always tried to avoid）； such as asking his opinion on a novel
or inquiring about his doings at the University； he invariably
pulled a grimace； and either turned away without speaking or
answered with some nonsensical French phrase〃Comme c'est tres
jolie！〃 or the like。 Or again； feigning to look serious and
stolidly wise； he would say something absolutely meaningless and
bearing no relation whatever to the question asked him； or else
suddenly exclaim； with a look of pretended unconsciousness； the
word bulku or poyechali or kapustu； ＇Respectively； 〃 roll of
butter；〃 〃away；〃 and 〃 cabbage。〃＇ or something of the kind； and
when； afterwards； I happened to repeat these words to him as
having been told me by Lubotshka or Katenka； he would always
remark：
〃Hm！ So you actually care about talking to them？ I can see you
are a duffer still〃and one needed to see and near him to
appreciate the profound； immutable contempt which echoed in this
remark。 He had been grown…up now two years； and was in love with
every good…looking woman that he met； yet； despite the fact that
he came in daily contact with Katenka （who during those two years
had been wearing long dresses； and was growing prettier every
day）； the possibility of his falling in love with her never
seemed to enter his head。 Whether this proceeded from the fact
that the prosaic recollections of childhood were still too fresh
in his memory； or whether from the aversion which very young
people feel for everything domestic； or whether from the common
human weakness which； at a first encounter with anything fair and
pretty； leads a man to say to himself； 〃Ah！ I shall meet much
more of the same kind during my life；〃 but at all events Woloda
had never yet looked upon Katenka with a man's eyes。
All that summer Woloda appeared to find things very wearisomea
fact which arose out of that contempt for us all which； as I have
said； he made no effort to conceal。 His expression of face seemed
to be constantly saying； 〃Phew！ how it bores me to have no one to
speak to！〃 The first thing in the morning he would go out
shooting； or sit reading a book in his room； and not dress until
luncheon time。 Indeed； if Papa was not at home； he would take his
book into that meal； and go on reading it without addressing so
much as a single word to any one of us； who felt； somehow； guilty
in his presence。 In the evening； too； he would stretch himself on
a settee in the drawing…room； and either go to sleep； propped on
his elbow； or tell us farcical storiessometimes stories so
improper as to make Mimi grow angry and blush； and ourselves die
with laughter。 At other times he would not condescend to address
a single serious word to any member of the family except Papa or
（occasionally） myself。 Involuntarily I offended against his view
of girls； seeing that I was not so afraid of seeming affectionate
as he； and； moreover； had not such a profound and confirmed
contempt for young women。 Yet several times that summer； when
driven by lack of amusement to try and engage Lubotshka and
Katenka in conversation； I always encountered in them such an
absence of any capacity for logical thinking； and such an
ignorance of the simplest； most ordinary matters （as； for
instance； the nature of money； the subjects studied at
universities； the effect of war； and so forth）； as well as such
indifference to my explanations of such matters； that these
attempts of mine only ended in confirming my unfavourable opinion
of feminine ability。
I remember one evening when Lubotshka kept repeating some
unbearably tedious passage on the piano about a hundred times in
succession； while Woloda； who was dozing on a settee in the
drawing…room； kept addressing no one in particular as
he muttered； 〃Lord！ how she murders it！ WHAT a musician！ WHAT a
Beethoven！〃 （he always pronounced the composer's name with
especial irony）。 〃Wrong again！ Nowa second time！ That's it！〃
and so on。 Meanwhile Katenka and I were sitting by the tea…table；
and somehow she began to talk about her favourite subjectlove。
I was in the right frame of mind to philosophise； and began by
loftily defining love as the wish to acquire in another what one
does not possess in oneself。 To this Katenka retorted that； on
the contrary； love is not love at all if a girl desires to marry
a man for his money alone； but that； in her opinion； riches were
a vain thing； and true love only the affection which can stand
the test of separation （this I took to be a hint concerning her
love for Dubkoff）。 At this point Woloda； who must have been
listening all the time； raised himself on his elbow； and cried
out some rubbish or another； and I felt that he was right。
Apart from the general faculties （more or less developed in
different persons） of intellect； sensibility； and artistic
feeling； there also exists （more or less developed in different
circles of society； and especially in families） a private or
individual faculty which I may call APPREHENSION。 The essence of
this faculty lies in sympathetic appreciation of proportion； and
in identical understanding of things。 Two individuals who possess
this faculty and belong to the same social circle or the same
family apprehend an expression of feeling precisely to the same
point； namely； the point beyond which such expression becomes
mere phrasing。 Thus they apprehend precisely where commendation
ends and irony begins； where attraction ends and pretence begins；
in a manner which would be impossible for persons possessed of a
different order of apprehension。 Persons possessed of identical
apprehension view objects in an identically ludicrous； beautiful；
or repellent light； and in order to facilitate such identical
apprehension between members of the same social circle or family；
they usually establish a language； turns of speech； or terms to
define such shades of apprehension as exist for them alone。 In
our particular family such apprehension was common to Papa；
Woloda； and myself； and was developed to the highest pitch；
Dubkoff also approximated to our coterie in apprehension； but
Dimitri； though infinitely more intellectual than Dubkoff； was
grosser in this respect。 With no one； however； did I bring this
faculty to such a point as with Woloda； who had grown up with me
under identical conditions。 Papa stood a long way from us； and
much that was to us as clear as 〃two and two make four〃 was to
him incomprehensible。 For instance； I and Woloda managed to
establish between ourselves the following terms； with meanings to
correspond。 Izium ＇Raisins。＇ meant a desire to boast of one's
money； shishka ＇Bump or swelling。＇ （on pronouncing