She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes had passed. "By now he
has received the note and is coming back. Not long, ten minutes
more.... But what if he doesn't come? No, that cannot be. He
mustn't see me with tear-stained eyes. I'll go and wash. Yes,
yes; did I do my hair or not?" she asked herself. And she could
not remember. She felt her head with her hand. "Yes, my hair
has been done, but when I did it I can't in the least remember."
She could not believe the evidence of her hand, and went up to
the pier glass to see whether she really had done her hair. She
certainly had, but she could not think when she had done it.
"Who's that?" she thought, looking in the looking glass at the
swollen face with strangely glittering eyes, that looked in a
scared way at her. "Why, it's I!" she suddenly understood, and
looking round, she seemed all at once to feel his kisses on her,
and twitched her shoulders, shuddering. Then she lifted her hand
to her lips and kissed it.
"What is it? Why, I'm going out of my mind!" and she went into
her bedroom, where Annushka was tidying the room.
"Annushka," she said, coming to a standstill before her, and she
stared at the maid, not knowing what to say to her.
"You meant to go and see Darya Alexandrovna," said the girl, as
though she understood.
"Darya Alexandrovna? Yes, I'll go."
"Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back. He's coming, he'll
be here soon." She took out her watch and looked at it. "But
how could he go away, leaving me in such a state? How can he
live, without making it up with me?" She went to the window and
began looking into the street. Judging by the time, he might be
back now. But her calculations might be wrong, and she began
once more to recall when he had started and to count the minutes.