“我去城里时每次都从她的目光里看到她在期待着我，并且她会亲自对我承认在所有的那些天里她有一种特殊的感觉猜想我应该来了。我们长时间地交谈，沉默，但是都不承认爱着对方，而是胆怯猜疑地隐藏起对对方的爱。我们害怕可能向我们自己暴露出我们秘密的任何事情。我温柔地深深地爱着她，但是我一直在细想这份爱，一直在问自己如果我们没有力量抗拒这份爱，这份爱能通往何方。似乎难以置信我温柔、悲伤的爱可能突然粗暴地打破她的丈夫，她的孩子，以及我如此热爱和信赖的这个家庭的平静的生活进程。这是合乎名誉的吗？如果她愿意跟我走，可是能走到哪儿去呢？我能带她去哪里呢？如果我有一份美好、有趣的生活就是另一回事了——例如，要是我一直在努力摆脱农村，或者要是我是一个著名的学问家，或者艺术家或者画家就好了。可是那样就将意味着把她从每天的单调生活里带到另一种单调甚至可能更加单调的生活里。而我们的幸福会持续多久呢？万一我病了，万一我死了，或者如果我们只是对彼此变得冷漠了，她将会怎么样呢？
“And when I went to the town I saw every time from her eyes that she was expecting me, and she would confess to me herself that she had had a peculiar feeling all that day guessed that I should come. We talked a long time, and were silent, yet we did not confess our love to each other, but timidly and jealously concealed it. We were afraid of everything that might reveal our secret to ourselves. I loved her tenderly, deeply, but I reflected and kept asking myself what our love could lead to if we had not the strength to fight against it. It seemed to be incredible that my gentle, sad love could all at once coarsely break up the even tenor of the life of her husband, her children, and all the household in which I was so loved and trusted. Would it be honourable? She would go away with me, but where? Where could I take her? It would have been a different matter if I had had a beautiful, interesting life—if, for instance, I had been struggling for the emancipation of my country, or had been a celebrated man of science, an artist or a painter; but as it was it would mean taking her from one everyday humdrum life to another as humdrum or perhaps more so. And how long would our happiness last? What would happen to her in case I was ill, in case I died, or if we simply grew cold to one another?
“同样地，显然她也有充分的理由。她要考虑她的丈夫，孩子，还有她的母亲，她母亲爱她父亲就像爱孩子一样。如果她放纵自己到感情里她将不得不说谎，要不然说出事实真相，以她的地位这两种后果都同样糟糕和不便。且她还要受到她的爱是否将带我给幸福这个问题的折磨——事实上，我的生活已经够辛苦和困难重重了，她不会使我的生活更复杂吗？她认为对我来说她不够年轻了，要开始一种新生活她既不勤奋也没有足够的精力。她常常跟她丈夫说娶一个聪明的好女孩对我来说很重要，她会成为我的助手，成为一个能干的主妇，不过她会立刻补充说要在全城找到一个这样的女孩子并不容易。
“And she apparently reasoned in the same way. She thought of her husband, her children, and of her mother, who loved the husband like a son. If she abandoned herself to her feelings she would have to lie, or else to tell the truth, and in her position either would have been equally terrible and inconvenient. And she was tormented by the question whether her love would bring me happiness—would she not complicate my life, which, as it was, was hard enough and full of all sorts of trouble? She fancied she was not young enough for me, that she was not industrious nor energetic enough to begin a new life, and she often talked to her husband of the importance of my marrying a girl of intelligence and merit who would be a capable housewife and a help to me—and she would immediately add that it would be difficult to find such a girl in the whole town.
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