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Show 90.1. 'l‘ll l'l lt.\ltl\' l-‘( tlthS'l‘ TlIlC LOVERS loved her with a passion that nothing ean ever ehauge. taste, he was handsome and elever. What was I to do? I knew that my wife loved him, and she must he happy. I knew that I owed her everything heeause of all that she had And why? . . . l, 1'a1111ot tell y1‘1u-~1111less it were that she was the only person 1 have known who did not wish 1110 another kind 1111114111. I eould he 111yselt' with her and know that she still eared 1111' 111e, . . . 1 will not: pretend to you, Ivan Andreieviteh. that I think 111yselt' a. 11110 1111111," he eontiuued. "I have never thought 111yselt so. When Iwas very young I envied tall men and handsome 111e11 1111111111111 who knew what was the llt‘>1, thine to do without: thinking 111, it. 1 have always known that people would only eon1e to 1111‘ tor what 1 have not to give and l have pretended that I do not eare. .\11d onee 1 had an l‘lnnlish 111er1'l1a11t as my guest. He was very anreeahle and pleasant. to me? and then 11y ehanee l (Wt‘i‘ln‘ai‘d him say: ‘Ah, Andrey Yassilieviteh! A vulgar little snohl' what I ani-l do not know rl‘hat is perhaps we are, all what (iod pleases. lint I had unstresses, I had friends. amptaintanees. despised me. They They left. me always for some one "finer. They say that we llussians eare too inueh what others think of 119~l,111t when in your own house people-vyou r friends-- say sueh things of you . . 3' lIe hroke oil", then, s11'1iline, eoutinued: "My wife earne. 'l‘here was so111ethinej in me, just 213 I was, that she eared tor. She did not passionately 10W 111e, hut she loved me with her heart heeause she saw that I needed love. She. always saw people just as they were. . . And I understood. I understood from the beginning exactly what. I was to her. . . ." He paused again. put his hand on my knee, then spoke, l1'111kinn' very Serious with his (ffllTllC little nose and mouth like, the nose and mouth of a poodle. "I had a friend, Ivan A11dreievitel1. A line 1115111. . . . We loved my wife flll‘l my wife loved 111111. We was not vulgar. IIO had a fine "‘35 done for me. I helped them in their love. . . . For five years I Wished them well. Do you think it was easy for me? I suffered, Ivan Andreieviteh, the tortures of hell. I was jealous, God ‘t‘ore'ive 111el IIow jealous! S11111etin1es alone in my room I would ery all night-vnot a line thing: to do. But then how should l aet '3 H1111 e‘ave him what she eould never give, to 1110. She loved him with passion for me she eared as good wo111eneare tor the poor. 1 was 11 1111is'l1 perhaps. I tried to he as they were, with their taste and easy judmnents . . . I tailed, ot' eourse. What, eonld 1 do all at once? One, is as (11111 has pleased tiro111 the hegi11< ning. Ahl how I was unhappy those live years! I wished that he would die and then eursed 111ysell" 't'or wishing it. And yet I knew that I had so111etl1ine‘ that he had not. I needed her more than he, and she knew that. llier 1'harn1 for him would t'ade perhaps as the years passed. lle. was a passionate 1111111 who had loved many women. For 111e, as she well knew, it. would never pass. "She died. For a time 1 was like :1 dead 1111111. .\111l.~=l1o was not. enough with me. I talked 111 her 1111111114, hut they had not known herdnot as she \\';1<. Holy one had known her and he was the t'riend 111111111 :~llt' had loved. "()f eoursehe l'ound 1111*;1sheha1l 111‘11‘;1y\'1111111' tiresonn», irritating, of vulgar taste. lint. he. too, wanted to r‘pealx of her. And so we were drawn towether. . . . Now . . is he my friend? I say always that he i<. 1 say to111yselt‘: ‘Andrey Vassilieviteh, he is your hot 1'1'11'1111‘ hot 1 :1111 jealous. Yes. lvan .\111lr1-11\it1'h‘ 1 11111 '11-,1111114111'111111. I think that perhaps 111: will 1111-11111'111‘1‘ 1111- and that then Sonicwhere~ togetherrwthey will laugh at, 1111-. 1\111l he 1111-1 |