Another Man's Wife Page #9

"Another Man's Wife" is a lesser-known short story by Fyodor Dostoevsky, exploring themes of love, infidelity, and the complexities of human relationships. The narrative revolves around a man who becomes infatuated with another man's wife, delving into the emotional turmoil and moral dilemmas that arise from his desires. Dostoevsky's characteristic psychological depth is evident as he examines the conflict between passion and societal norms, ultimately revealing the profound impacts of jealousy and betrayal on the lives of those involved.

• Novel

								

mice here."

"Why, first cats and then mice, I really don't know what is the matter with
you."

"Oh, I am all right ... Khee ... I ... khee! Never mind ...
khee-khee-khee-khee! Oh! Lord have mercy on me ... khee."

"You hear, you are making such an upset that he hears you," whispers the
young man.

"But if you knew what is happening to me. My nose is bleeding."

"Let it bleed. Shut up. Wait till he goes away."

"But, young man, put yourself in my place. Why, I don't know with whom I am
lying."

"Would you be any better off if you did? Why, I don't want to know your
name. By the way, what is your name?"

"No; what do you want with my name?... I only want to explain the senseless
way in which...."

"Hush ... he is speaking again...."

"Really, my love, there is whispering."

"Oh, no, it's the cotton wool in your ears has got out of place."

"Oh, by the way, talking of the cotton wool, do you know that upstairs ...
khee-khee ... upstairs ... khee-khee ..." and so on.

"Upstairs!" whispered the young man. "Oh, the devil! I thought that this
was the top storey; can it be the second?"

"Young man," whispered Ivan Andreyitch, "what did you say? For goodness'
sake why does it concern you? I thought it was the top storey too. Tell me,
for God's sake, is there another storey?"

"Really some one is stirring," said the old man, leaving off coughing at
last.

"Hush! Do you hear?" whispered the young man, squeezing Ivan Andreyitch's
hands.

"Sir, you are holding my hands by force. Let me go!"

"Hush!"

A slight struggle followed and then there was a silence again.

"So I met a pretty woman ..." began the old man.

"A pretty woman!" interrupted his wife.

"Yes.... I thought I told you before that I met a pretty woman on the
stairs, or perhaps I did not mention it? My memory is weak. Yes, St. John's
wort ... khee!"

"What?"

"I must drink St. John's wort; they say it does good ... khee-khee-khee! It
does good!"

"It was you interrupted him," said the young man, grinding his teeth again.

"You said, you met some pretty woman to-day?" his wife went on.

"Eh?"

"Met a pretty woman?"

"Who did?"

"Why, didn't you?"

"I? When?"

"Oh, yes!..."

"At last! What a mummy! Well!" whispered the young man, inwardly raging at
the forgetful old gentleman.

"My dear sir, I am trembling with horror. My God, what do I hear? It's like
yesterday, exactly like yesterday!..."

"Hush!"

"Yes, to be sure! I remember, a sly puss, such eyes ... in a blue hat...."

"In a blue hat! Aïe, aïe!"

"It's she! She has a blue hat! My God!" cried Ivan Andreyitch.

"She? Who is she?" whispered the young man, squeezing Ivan Andreyitch's
hands.

"Hush!" Ivan Andreyitch exhorted in his turn. "He is speaking."

"Ah, my God, my God!"

"Though, after all, who hasn't a blue hat?"

"And such a sly little rogue," the old gentleman went on "She comes here to
see friends. She is always making eyes. And other friends come to see those
friends too...."

"Foo! how tedious!" the lady interrupted. "Really, how can you take
interest in that?"

"Oh, very well, very well, don't be cross," the old gentleman responded in
a wheedling chant. "I won't talk if you don't care to hear me. You seem a
little out of humour this evening."

"But how did you get here?" the young man began.

"Ah, you see, you see! Now you are interested, and before you wouldn't
listen!"

"Oh, well, I don't care! Please don't tell me. Oh, damnation take it, what
a mess!"

"Don't be cross, young man; I don't know what I am saying. I didn't mean
anything; I only meant to say that there must be some good reason for your
taking such an interest.... But who are you, young man? I see you are a
stranger, but who are you? Oh, dear, I don't know what I am saying!"

"Ugh, leave off, please!" the young man interrupted, as though he were
considering something.

"But I will tell you all about it. You think, perhaps, that I will not tell
you. That I feel resentment against you. Oh, no! Here is my hand. I am only
feeling depressed, nothing more. But for God's sake, first tell me how you
came here yourself? Through what chance? As for me, I feel no ill-will;
no, indeed, I feel no ill-will, here is my hand. I have made it rather
dirty, it is so dusty here; but that's nothing, when the feeling is true."

"Ugh, get away with your hand! There is no room to turn, and he keeps
thrusting his hand on me!"

"But, my dear sir, but you treat me, if you will allow me to say so, as
though I were an old shoe," said Ivan Andreyitch in a rush of the meekest
despair, in a voice full of entreaty. "Treat me a little more civilly, just
a little more civilly, and I will tell you all about it! We might be
friends; I am quite ready to ask you home to dinner. We can't lie side by
side like this, I tell you plainly. You are in error, young man, you do not
know...."

"When was it he met her?" the young man muttered, evidently in violent
emotion. "Perhaps she is expecting me now.... I'll certainly get away from
here!"

"She? Who is she? My God, of whom are you speaking, young man? You imagine
that upstairs.... My God, my God! Why am I punished like this?"

Ivan Andreyitch tried to turn on his back in his despair.

"Why do you want to know who she is? Oh, the devil whether it was she or
not, I will get out."

"My dear sir! What are you thinking about? What will become of me?"
whispered Ivan Andreyitch, clutching at the tails of his neighbour's dress
coat in his despair.

"Well, what's that to me? You can stop here by yourself. And if you won't,
I'll tell them that you are my uncle, who has squandered all his property,
so that the old gentleman won't think that I am his wife's lover."

"But that is utterly impossible, young man; it's unnatural I should be your
uncle. Nobody would believe you. Why, a baby wouldn't believe it," Ivan
Andreyitch whispered in despair.

"Well, don't babble then, but lie as flat as a pancake! Most likely you
will stay the night here and get out somehow to-morrow; no one will notice
you. If one creeps out, it is not likely they would think there was another
one here. There might as well be a dozen. Though you are as good as a dozen
by yourself. Move a little, or I'll get out."

"You wound me, young man.... What if I have a fit of coughing? One has to
think of everything."
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