air... it is fearfully close in his room... But where is one to get a breath of air here? The very streets here feel like shut-up rooms. Good heavens! what a town!... stay... this side... they will crush you — carrying something. Why, it is a piano they have got, I declare... how they push!... I am very much afraid of that young woman, too.”

“What young woman, mother?

“Why, that Sofya Semyonovna, who was there just now.”

“Why?”

“I have a presentiment, Dounia. Well, you may believe it or not, but as soon as she came in, that very minute, I felt that she was the chief cause of the trouble...”

“Nothing of the sort!” cried Dounia, in vexation.