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"Bah! you, too, have ideals," he muttered, looking at her almost

with hatred, and smiling sarcastically. "I ought to have

considered that.... Well, that's praiseworthy, and it's better

for you... and if you reach a line you won't overstep, you will

be unhappy... and if you overstep it, maybe you will be still

unhappier.... But all that's nonsense," he added irritably, vexed

at being carried away. "I only meant to say that I beg your

forgiveness, mother," he concluded, shortly and abruptly.

"That's enough, Rodya, I am sure that everything you do is very

good," said his mother, delighted.

"Don't be too sure," he answered, twisting his mouth into a

smile.

A silence followed. There was a certain constraint in all this

conversation, and in the silence, and in the reconciliation, and

in the forgiveness, and all were feeling it.