"Do you really want me?" she would ask, looking up, laughing, in his
face.
"Of course I do."
"Well, you should have told me last night. This morning I go with Anna
Petrovna to the cholera. All is arranged."
"I'm afraid you must change your plans."
"I'm afraid not."
"Goga may go...."
"No, I wish to go."
And she went. He had certainly never before in his life been thus
defied. He simply did not know what to do about it. If he had thought
that bullying would frighten her he would, I believe, have bullied
her, but he knew quite well that it wouldn't. And then, as I now began
to perceive (I had at first thought otherwise), he was for the first
time in his life experiencing something deeper and more confusing than
his customary animal passions. He may at first have wanted Marie
Ivanovna as he wanted his dinner or his supper ... now he wanted her
differently. New emotions, surprising confusing emotions stirred in
him. At least that is how I interpret the uneasiness, the hesitation,
which I now seemed to perceive in him.
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