Pavel Ivanitch’s heart beat still more violently.⁠ ⁠… Involuntarily, with no desire to do so, he suddenly pictured to himself the half-darkness of the arbour.⁠ ⁠… A graceful fair girl with a little blue hat and a turn-up nose rose before his imagination. He saw her, abashed by her love and trembling all over, timidly approach him, breathing excitedly, and⁠ ⁠… suddenly clasping him in her arms.

“If I weren’t married it would be all right⁠ ⁠…” he mused, driving sinful ideas out of his head. “Though⁠ ⁠… for once in my life, it would do no harm to have the experience, or else one will die without knowing what.⁠ ⁠… And my wife, what will it matter to her? Thank God, for eight years I’ve never moved one step away from her.⁠ ⁠… Eight years of irreproachable duty! Enough of her.⁠ ⁠… It’s positively vexatious.⁠ ⁠… I’m ready to go to spite her!”

Trembling all over and holding his breath, Pavel Ivanitch went up to the arbour, wreathed with ivy and wild vine, and peeped into it.⁠ ⁠… A smell of dampness and mildew reached him.⁠ ⁠…

“I believe there’s nobody⁠ ⁠…” he thought, going into the arbour, and at once saw a human silhouette in the corner.

The silhouette was that of a man.⁠ ⁠… Looking more closely, Pavel Ivanitch recognised his wife’s brother, Mitya, a student, who was staying with them at the villa.

“Oh, it’s you⁠ ⁠…” he growled discontentedly, as he took off his hat and sat down.

“Yes, it’s I⁠ ⁠…” answered Mitya.

Two minutes passed in silence.

“Excuse me, Pavel Ivanitch,” began Mitya: “but might I ask you to leave me alone?⁠ ⁠… I am thinking over the dissertation for my degree and⁠ ⁠… and the presence of anybody else prevents my thinking.”