There was a mist over everything; only the dirty table-cloth, with its
green radish-stalks, empty beer-glasses and cigarette-ends danced
before his eyes, as he sat there, huddled-up and forlorn.

Afterwards, he remembered, Ivanoff came back, and with him was Sanine.
The latter seemed gay, talkative and perfectly sober. He looked at
Yourii in a strange manner, half-friendly and half-derisive. Then his
thoughts turned to the scene in the wood with Sina. "It would have been
base of me if I had taken advantage of her weakness," he said to
himself. "Yet what shall I do now? Possess her, and then cast her off?
No, I could never do that; I'm too kind-hearted. Well, what then? Marry
her?"

Marriage! To Yourii the very word sounded appallingly commonplace. How
could anyone of his complex temperament endure the idea of a philistine
ménage? It was impossible. "And yet I love her," he thought. "Why
should I put her from me, and go? Why should I destroy my own
happiness? It's monstrous! It's absurd!"

On reaching home, in order to take his thoughts off the one engrossing
subject, he sat down at the table and proceeded to read over certain
sententious passages written by him recently.

"In this world there is neither good nor bad."

"Some say: what is natural is good, and that man is right in his
desires."