(Including the second part of "Nastenka's Story". Perhaps you'd like to read the First Night, the first part of the Second Night , or the second part of the Second Night before reading this, though?)
"Now the end is near. Just a year ago, in May, the lodger came to us and said to grandmother that he had finished his business here, and that he must go back to Moscow for a year. When I heard that, I sank into a chair half dead; grandmother did not notice anything; and having informed us that he should be leaving us, he bowed and went away.
"What was I to do? I thought and thought and fretted and fretted, and at last I made up my mind. Next day he was to go away, and I made up my mind to end it all that evening when grandmother went to bed. And so it happened. I made up all my clothes in a parcel -- all the linen I needed -- and with the parcel in my hand, more dead than alive, went upstairs to our lodger. I believe I must have stayed an hour on the staircase."
"He thought I was a ghost, and rushed to give me some water, for I could hardly stand up. My heart beat so violently that my head ached, and I did not know what I was doing."
"'Listen,' he began, 'listen, Nastenka, I can't do anything; I am a poor man, for I have nothing, not even a decent berth. How could we live if I were to marry you?"
"Listen, I am going to Moscow and shall be there just a year; I hope to establish my position. When I come back, if you still love me, I swear that we will be happy. Now it is impossible, I am not able, I have not the right to promise anything. Well, I repeat if it is not within a year it will certainly be some time; that is, of course, if you do not prefer any one else for I cannot and dare not bind you by any sort of promise.'
"That is what he said to me, and the next day he went away."
"Good God, can I do nothing to help you in your sorrow"' I cried, jumping up from the seat in utter despair. 'Tell me, Nastenka, wouldn't it be possible for me to go to him?"
"Would that be possible?' she asked suddenly, raising her head."
"No, of course not,' I said pulling myself up: 'but I tell you what, write a letter."
"No, that's impossible, I can't do that,' she answered with decision, bending her head and not looking at me.
"'How impossible -- why is it impossible?' I went on, clinging to my idea. 'But, Nastanka, it depends what sort of letter; there are letters and letters and....Ah, Nastenka, I am right; trust to me, trust to me, I will not give you bad advice. It can all be arranged! You took the first step -- why not now?'
"'I can't. I can't! It would seem as though I were forcing myself on him...."
"Listen; how would you write?"
"Write what?"
"This letter."
"I tell you how I would write: 'Dear Sir'...I am writing to you. Forgive me my impatience; but I have been happy for a whole year in hope;"
"Yes, yes; that's exactly what I was thinking!' cried Nastenka, and her eyes beamed with delight. 'Oh, you have solved my difficulties: God has sent you to me! Thank you, thank you!'"
"Come, enough, enough! Good-by now," she said, speaking rapidly, '"Here is the letter, here is the address to which you are to take it. Good-bye, till we meet again! Till to-morrow!"
"She pressed both my hands warmly, nodded her head, and flew like an arrow down her side street. I stood still for a long time following her with my eyes. "Till to-morrow! till to-morrow!" was ringing in my ears as she vanished from my sight."
(Okay, I couldn't resist. And, obviously, the Second Night of Dostoevsky's "White Nights" takes up a goodly portion of the story. And the film. And we're only up to the interval at this point. But next up, the Third Night....)
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