What makes men go out of their minds; what makes men shoot themselves?" he answered himself, and opening his eyes, he saw with wonder an embroidered cushion beside him, worked by Varya, his brother's wife.

He touched the tassel of the cushion, and tried to think of Varya, of when he had seen her last.

But to think of anything extraneous was an agonizing effort.

" No, I must sleep!" He moved the cushion up, and pressed his head into it, but he had to make an effort to keep his eyes shut.

He jumped up and sat down.