Poor Folk

*My Dearest Barbara Alexıevna, How happy I was last nighthow immeasurably, how impossibly hap­py! That was because for once in your life you had relen­ted so far as to obey my wishes. At about eight o’clock I awoke from sleep (you know, my beloved one, that I always like to sleep for a short hour after my work is done)I awoke, I say, and, lighting a candle, prepared my paper to write, and trimmed my pen.

Then suddenly, for some reason or another, I raised my eyesand felt my very he­art leap within me! For you had understood what I wan­ted, you had understood what my heart was craving for.*