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 				<p>“Ah, not that, not that, not that! Just understand me, Liuba! To go on with that which happened in the morning⁠—that’s⁠ ⁠… that’s swinishness, bestiality, and unworthy of a man who respects himself. Love! Love⁠—this is a full blending of minds, thoughts, souls, interests, and not of the bodies alone. Love is a tremendous, great emotion, mighty as the universe, and not the sprawling in bed. There’s no such love between us, Liubochka. If it’ll come, it will be wonderful happiness both for you and for me. But in the meantime⁠—I’m your friend, your faithful comrade, on the path of life. And that’s enough, and that will do⁠ ⁠… And though I’m no stranger to human frailties, still, I count myself an honest man.”</p>
 				<p>Liubka seemed to wilt. “He thinks I want him to marry me. And I absolutely don’t need that,” she thought sadly. “It’s possible to live just so. There are others, now, living on maintenance. And, they say, far better than if they had twirled around an altar. What’s so bad about that? Peaceful, quiet, genteel⁠ ⁠… I’d darn socks for him, wash floors, cook⁠ ⁠… the plainer dishes. Of course, he’ll be in line to get married to a rich girl some time. Well, now, to be sure, he wouldn’t throw me out in the street just so, mother-naked. Although he’s a little simpleton, and chatters a lot, still it’s easy to tell he’s a decent man. He’ll provide for me with something, somehow. And, perhaps, he’ll get to like me, will get used to me? I’m a simple girl, modest, and would never consent to be false to him. For, they say, things do fall out that way⁠ ⁠… Only I mustn’t let him see anything. But that he’ll come again into my bed, and will come this very night⁠—that’s as sure as God is holy.”</p>
 				<p>And Likhonin also fell into thought, grew quiet and sad; he was already feeling the weight of a great deed which he had undertaken beyond his powers. That was why he was even glad when someone knocked on the door, and to his answer, “Come in!”, two students entered: Soloviev, and Nijeradze, who had slept that night at his place.</p>
-				<p>Soloviev, well-grown and already obese, with a broad, ruddy Volga face and a light, scandent little beard, belonged to those kindly, merry and simple fellows, of which there are sufficiently many in any university. He divided his leisure⁠—and of leisure he had twenty-four hours in the day⁠—between the beer-shop and rambling over the boulevards; among billiards, whist, the theatre, reading of newspapers and novels, and the spectacles of circus wrestling; while the short intervals in between he used for eating, sleeping, the home repair of his wardrobe, with the aid of thread, cardboard, pins and ink; and for succinct, most realistic love with the chance woman from the kitchen, the anteroom or the street. Like all the youths of his circle, he deemed himself a revolutionary, although he was oppressed by political disputes, dissensions, and mutual reproaches; and not being able to stand the reading of revolutionary brochures and journals, was almost a complete ignoramus in the work For that reason he had not attained even the very least party initiation; although at times there were given him instructions of a sort, not at all of a safe nature, the meaning of which was not made clear to him. And not in vain was his steadfast faithfulness relied upon; he carried out everything rapidly, exactly, with a courageous faith in the universal importance of the work; with a carefree smile and with a broad contempt of possible destruction. He concealed outlawed comrades, guarded forbidden literature and printing types, transmitted passports and money. He had a great deal of physical strength, black-loam amiability and elemental simple-heartedness. Not infrequently he would receive from home, somewheres in the depth of the Simbirskaya or Ufimskaya province, sums of money sufficiently large for a student; but in two days he scattered and dispersed it everywhere, with the carelessness of a French grandee of the seventeenth century, while he himself remained during winter in only his everyday coat, with boots restored by his own devices.</p>
+				<p>Soloviev, well-grown and already obese, with a broad, ruddy Volga face and a light, scandent little beard, belonged to those kindly, merry and simple fellows, of which there are sufficiently many in any university. He divided his leisure⁠—and of leisure he had twenty-four hours in the day⁠—between the beer-shop and rambling over the boulevards; among billiards, whist, the theatre, reading of newspapers and novels, and the spectacles of circus wrestling; while the short intervals in between he used for eating, sleeping, the home repair of his wardrobe, with the aid of thread, cardboard, pins and ink; and for succinct, most realistic love with the chance woman from the kitchen, the anteroom or the street. Like all the youths of his circle, he deemed himself a revolutionary, although he was oppressed by political disputes, dissensions, and mutual reproaches; and not being able to stand the reading of revolutionary brochures and journals, was almost a complete ignoramus in the work. For that reason he had not attained even the very least party initiation; although at times there were given him instructions of a sort, not at all of a safe nature, the meaning of which was not made clear to him. And not in vain was his steadfast faithfulness relied upon; he carried out everything rapidly, exactly, with a courageous faith in the universal importance of the work; with a carefree smile and with a broad contempt of possible destruction. He concealed outlawed comrades, guarded forbidden literature and printing types, transmitted passports and money. He had a great deal of physical strength, black-loam amiability and elemental simple-heartedness. Not infrequently he would receive from home, somewheres in the depth of the Simbirskaya or Ufimskaya province, sums of money sufficiently large for a student; but in two days he scattered and dispersed it everywhere, with the carelessness of a French grandee of the seventeenth century, while he himself remained during winter in only his everyday coat, with boots restored by his own devices.</p>
 				<p>Beside all these naive, touching, laughable, lofty and shiftless qualities of the old Russian student, passing⁠—and God knows if for the better?⁠—into the realm of historical memories, he possessed still another amazing ability⁠—to invent money and arrange for credit in little restaurants and cook-shops. All the employees of pawnshops and loan offices, secret and manifest usurers, and old-clo’-men were on terms of the closest friendship with him.</p>
 				<p>But if for certain reasons he could not resort to them, then even here Soloviev remained at the height of his resourcefulness. At the head of a knot of impoverished friends, and weighed down with his usual business responsibility, he would at times be illumined by an inner inspiration; make at a distance, across the street, a mysterious sign to a Tartar passing with his bundle behind his shoulders, and for a few seconds would disappear with him into the nearest gates. He would quickly return without his everyday coat, only in his blouse with the skirts outside, belted with a thin cord; or, in winter, without his overcoat, in the thinnest of small suits; or instead of the new, just purchased uniform cap⁠—in a tiny jockey cap, holding by a miracle on the crown of his head.</p>
 				<p>Everybody loved him: comrades, servants, women, children. And all were familiar with him. He enjoyed especial goodwill from his bosom cronies, the Tartars, who, apparently, deemed him a little innocent. They would sometimes, in the summer, bring as a present the strong, intoxicating <i xml:lang="ru-Latn">koumyss</i> in big quartern bottles, while at Bairam they would invite him to eat a suckling colt with them. No matter how improbable it may seem, still, Soloviev at critical moments gave away for safekeeping certain books and brochures to the Tartars. He would say at this with the most simple and significant air: “That which I am giving you is a Great Book. It telleth, that <i xml:lang="ar">Allah akbar</i>,<a href="endnotes.xhtml#note-25" id="noteref-25" epub:type="noteref">25</a> and that Muhammad is his prophet; that there is much evil and poverty on earth, and that men must be merciful and just to each other.”</p>