Chapter 30

August 5th.

DEAREST MAKAR ALEXIEVITCH, - You must not despair. Away with
melancholy! I am sending you thirty kopecks in silver, and regret
that I cannot send you more. Buy yourself what you most need
until tomorrow. I myself have almost nothing left, and what I am
going to do I know not. Is it not dreadful, Makar Alexievitch?
Yet do not be downcast--it is no good being that. Thedora
declares that it would not be a bad thing if we were to remain in
this tenement, since if we left it suspicions would arise, and
our enemies might take it into their heads to look for us. On the
other hand, I do not think it would be well for us to remain
here. If I were feeling less sad I would tell you my reason.

What a strange man you are, Makar Alexievitch! You take things so
much to heart that you never know what it is to be happy. I read
your letters attentively, and can see from them that, though you
worry and disturb yourself about me, you never give a thought to
yourself. Yes, every letter tells me that you have a kind heart;
but I tell YOU that that heart is overly kind. So I will give you
a little friendly advice, Makar Alexievitch. I am full of
gratitude towards you--I am indeed full for all that you have
done for me, I am most sensible of your goodness; but, to think
that I should be forced to see that, in spite of your own
troubles (of which I have been the involuntary cause), you live
for me alone--you live but for MY joys and MY sorrows and MY
affection! If you take the affairs of another person so to heart,
and suffer with her to such an extent, I do not wonder that you
yourself are unhappy. Today, when you came to see me after
office-work was done, I felt afraid even to raise my eyes to
yours, for you looked so pale and desperate, and your face had so
fallen in. Yes, you were dreading to have to tell me of your
failure to borrow money--you were dreading to have to grieve and
alarm me; but, when you saw that I came very near to smiling, the
load was, I know, lifted from your heart. So do not be
despondent, do not give way, but allow more rein to your better
sense. I beg and implore this of you, for it will not be long
before you see things take a turn for the better. You will but
spoil your life if you constantly lament another person's sorrow.
Goodbye, dear friend. I beseech you not to be over-anxious about
me.

B. D.