“It’s a sin, of course, but there⁠—what is one to do?⁠ ⁠… You’ve forbidden us to have strangers in the house, I know, but we’ve none of our own now. When Agnia was here I had no women to see me, for I had one at home; but now, you can see for yourself, sir,⁠ ⁠… one can’t help having strangers. In Agnia’s time, of course, there was nothing irregular, because⁠ ⁠…”

“Be off, you scoundrel!” Miguev shouted at him, stamping, and he went back into the room.

Anna Filippovna, amazed and wrathful, was sitting as before, her tear-stained eyes fixed on the baby.⁠ ⁠…

“There! there!” Miguev muttered with a pale face, twisting his lips into a smile. “It was a joke.⁠ ⁠… It’s not my baby,⁠ ⁠… it’s the washerwoman’s!⁠ ⁠… I⁠ ⁠… I was joking.⁠ ⁠… Take it to the porter.”

I am a serious person and my mind is of a philosophic bent. My vocation is the study of finance. I am a student of financial law and I have chosen as the subject of my dissertation⁠—the Past and Future of the Dog Licence. I need hardly point out that young ladies, songs, moonlight, and all that sort of silliness are entirely out of my line.

Morning. Ten o’clock. My maman pours me out a cup of coffee. I drink it and go out on the little balcony to set to work on my dissertation. I take a clean sheet of paper, dip the pen into the ink, and write out the title: “The Past and Future of the Dog Licence.”

After thinking a little I write: “Historical Survey. We may deduce from some allusions in Herodotus and Xenophon that the origin of the tax on dogs goes back to.⁠ ⁠…”