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abusing you； as though you had not sacrificed your health for
her； had not thrown away your youth and your soul for her
benefit； but as though you had ruined her； beggared her； robbed
her。 And don't expect anyone to take your part： the others； your
companions； will attack you； too； win her favour； for all are in
slavery here； and have lost all conscience and pity here long
ago。 They have become utterly vile； and nothing on earth is
viler； more loathsome； and more insulting than their abuse。 And
you are laying down everything here； unconditionally； youth and
health and beauty and hope； and at twenty…two you will look like
a woman of five…and…thirty； and you will be lucky if you are not
diseased； pray to God for that！ No doubt you are thinking now
that you have a gay time and no work to do！ Yet there is no work
harder or more dreadful in the world or ever has been。 One would
think that the heart alone would be worn out with tears。 And you
won't dare to say a word； not half a word when they drive you
away from here； you will go away as though you were to blame。
You will change to another house； then to a third； then somewhere
else； till you come down at last to the Haymarket。 There you
will be beaten at every turn； that is good manners there； the
visitors don't know how to be friendly without beating you。 You
don't believe that it is so hateful there？ Go and look for
yourself some time； you can see with your own eyes。 Once； one
New Year's Day； I saw a woman at a door。 They had turned her out
as a joke； to give her a taste of the frost because she had been
crying so much； and they shut the door behind her。 At nine
o'clock in the morning she was already quite drunk； dishevelled；
half…naked； covered with bruises； her face was powdered； but she
had a black…eye； blood was trickling from her nose and her teeth；
some cabman had just given her a drubbing。 She was sitting on
the stone steps； a salt fish of some sort was in her hand； she
was crying； wailing something about her luck and beating with the
fish on the steps； and cabmen and drunken soldiers were crowding
in the doorway taunting her。 You don't believe that you will
ever be like that？ I should be sorry to believe it； too； but
how do you know； maybe ten years； eight years ago that very woman
with the salt fish came here fresh as a cherub； innocent； pure；
knowing no evil； blushing at every word。 Perhaps she was like
you； proud； ready to take offence； not like the others； perhaps
she looked like a queen； and knew what happiness was in store for
the man who should love her and whom she should love。 Do you see
how it ended？ And what if at that very minute when she was
beating on the filthy steps with that fish； drunken and
dishevelledwhat if at that very minute she recalled the pure
early days in her father's house； when she used to go to school
and the neighbour's son watched for her on the way； declaring
that he would love her as long as he lived； that he would devote
his life to her； and when they vowed to love one another for ever
and be married as soon as they were grown up！ No； Liza； it would
be happy for you if you were to die soon of consumption in some
corner； in some cellar like that woman just now。 In the
hospital； do you say？ You will be lucky if they take you； but
what if you are still of use to the madam here？ Consumption is a
queer disease； it is not like fever。 The patient goes on hoping
till the last minute and says he is all right。 He deludes
himself。 And that just suits your madam。 Don't doubt it； that's
how it is； you have sold your soul； and what is more you owe
money； so you daren't say a word。 But when you are dying； all
will abandon you； all will turn away from you； for then there
will be nothing to get from you。 What's more； they will reproach
you for cumbering the place； for being so long over dying。
However you beg you won't get a drink of water without abuse：
'Whenever are you going off； you nasty hussy； you won't let us
sleep with your moaning； you make the gentlemen sick。' That's
true； I have heard such things said myself。 They will thrust you
dying into the filthiest corner in the cellarin the damp and
darkness； what will your thoughts be； lying there alone？ When
you die； strange hands will lay you out； with grumbling and
impatience； no one will bless you； no one will sigh for you； they
only want to get rid of you as soon as may be； they will buy a
coffin； take you to the grave as they did that poor woman today；
and celebrate your memory at the tavern。 In the grave； sleet；
filth； wet snowno need to put themselves out for you'Let her
down； Vanuha； it's just like her luckeven here； she is
head…foremost； the hussy。 Shorten the cord； you rascal。' 'It's
all right as it is。' 'All right； is it？ Why； she's on her side！
She was a fellow…creature； after all！ But； never mind； throw the
earth on her。' And they won't care to waste much time quarrelling
over you。 They will scatter the wet blue clay as quick as they
can and go off to the tavern 。。。 and there your memory on earth
will end； other women have children to go to their graves；
fathers； husbands。 While for you neither tear； nor sigh； nor
remembrance； no one in the whole world will ever come to you；
your name will vanish from the face of the earthas though you
had never existed； never been born at all！ Nothing but filth and
mud； however you knock at your coffin lid at night； when the dead
arise； however you cry： 'Let me out； kind people； to live in the
light of day！ My life was no life at all； my life has been
thrown away like a dish…clout； it was drunk away in the tavern at
the Haymarket； let me out； kind people； to live in the world
again。'〃
And I worked myself up to such a pitch that I began to have a
lump in my throat myself； and。。。and all at once I stopped； sat up
in dismay and； bending over apprehensively； began to listen with
a beating heart。 I had reason to be troubled。
I had felt for some time that I was turning her soul upside down
and rending her heart； andand the more I was convinced of it；
the more eagerly I desired to gain my object as quickly and as
effectually as possible。 It was the exercise of my skill that
carried me away； yet it was not merely sport。。。。
I knew I was speaking stiffly； artificially； even bookishly； in
fact； I could not speak except 〃like a book。〃 But that did not
trouble me： I knew； I felt that I should be understood and that
this very bookishness might be an assistance。 But now； having
attained my effect； I was suddenly panic…stricken。 Never before
had I witnessed such despair！ She was lying on her face；
thrusting her face into the pillow and clutching it in both
hands。 Her heart was being torn。 Her youthful body was
shuddering all over as though in convulsions。 Suppressed sobs
rent her bosom and suddenly burst out in weeping and walling；
then she pressed closer into the pillow： she did not