"Oh, yes," he said.

" Yes, yes, yes--you're right; you're right!" And he saw all that Pestsov had been maintaining at dinner of the liberty of woman, simply from getting a glimpse of the terror of an old maid's existence and its humiliation in Kitty's heart; and loving her, he felt that terror and humiliation, and at once gave up his arguments.

A silence followed.

She was still drawing with the chalk on the table.