" "What are we all miserable for, when everything might be so happy?" "Only not he.

Don't I know him, the falsity in which he's utterly steeped?... Could one, with any feeling, live as he is living with me? He understands nothing, and feels nothing.

Could a man of any feeling live in the same house with his unfaithful wife? Could he talk to her, call her 'my dear'?" And again she could not help mimicking him: "'Anna, _ma chere_; Anna, dear'!" "He's not a man, not a human being--he's a doll! No one knows him; but I know him.