The inspector came, and wanted to know what he desired. “Here—I have written to my mother. Please let her have it;” and at the thought of his mother the tears again filled his eyes.
The inspector took the letter, promising to forward it, and was going away; but Svetlogoúb stopped him.
“Wait a minute!” he said, holding him affectionately by his sleeve. “You are kind—why do you stay in such a dismal service?”
The inspector smiled an unnatural, piteous smile, and hanging his head, he said:
“One has to live.”
“Give up this post! It is always possible to find something. … You are so kind—perhaps I might …”
The inspector suddenly sobbed, quickly turned away, and went out, banging the door after him.
This agitation increased Svetlogoúb’s loving emotion, and forcing back tears of joy, he began pacing up