While Sina Karsavina and Dubova were absent on a visit, Yourii's life
seemed uneventful and monotonous. His father was engaged, either at the
club or with household matters, and Lialia and Riasantzeff found the
presence of a third person embarrassing, so that Yourii avoided their
society. It thus became his habit to go to bed early and not to rise
till the midday meal. All day long, when in his room, or in the garden,
he brooded over matters, waiting for a supreme access of energy that
should spur him on to do some great work.

This "great work" each day assumed a different form. Now it was a
picture, or, again, it was a series of articles that should show the
world what a huge mistake the social democrats had made in not giving
Yourii a leading role in their party. Or else it was an article in
favour of adherence to the people and of strenuous co-operation with
it--a very broad, imposing treatment of the subject. Each day, however,
as it passed, brought nothing but boredom. Once or twice Novikoff and
Schafroff came to see him. Yourii also attended lectures and paid
visits, yet all this seemed to him empty and aimless. It was not what
he sought, or fancied that he sought.

One day he went to see Riasantzeff. The doctor had large, airy rooms
filled with all such things as an athletic, healthy man needs for his
amusement; Indian clubs, dumb-bells, rapiers, fishing-rods, nets,
tobacco-pipes, and much else that savoured of wholesome, manly
recreation.