PART 3 // chapter 4-3

[모나리자]

"맙소사, 두니아." 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나가 거리에 들어서자마자 말을 시작했다. "저는 정말 떠나서 안도감을 느껴요. 더 편안해졌어요. 어제 기차에서 그런 일이 생길 줄은 생각지도 못했어요."

"다시 말씀드리지만, 어머니, 그는 여전히 매우 아프세요. 모르세요? 아마 우리에 대한 걱정이 그를 화나게 했을 거예요. 우리는 인내심을 가져야 하고, 많은, 많은 것을 용서할 수 있어요." "음, 당신은 그렇게 인내심이 없었어요!" 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나가 그녀를 붙잡고 열렬하고 질투했다. "두니아, 당신 둘을 보고 있었어요. 당신은 그의 초상화 그 자체예요. 얼굴보다는 영혼이요. 두니아, 둘 다 우울하고, 우울하고, 급하고, 거만하고, 관대해요.... 두니아, 그가 이기적일 리가 없겠죠. 에? 오늘 저녁에 무슨 일이 일어날지 생각하면 가슴이 철렁 내려앉아요!" "불안해하지 마세요, 어머니. "두냐, 우리가 어떤 처지에 있는지 생각해 봐! 표트르 페트로비치가 그만두면 어떡하지?" 불쌍한 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나가 조심성 없이 소리쳤다.

"그렇게 되면 그는 별로 가치가 없을 거야." 두냐가 날카롭고 경멸조로 대답했다. "우리는 잘 떠났어." 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나가 서둘러 끼어들었다. "그는 뭔가 급한 일이 있어서 서둘렀어. 나가서 공기를 한 모금 마시면... 그의 방이 무섭도록 가까워... 하지만 여기서 공기를 마실 수 있는 곳은 어디야? 여기 거리 자체가 폐쇄된 방 같아. 세상에! 정말 멋진 마을이야!... 여기... 이쪽으로 가... 그들이 뭔가를 들고 와서 널 짓밟을 거야. 아니, 그들이 피아노를 가지고 있다고 내가 선언할게... 그들이 얼마나 밀어붙이는지!... 나도 그 젊은 여자가 너무 무서워." "어떤 젊은 여자야, 어머니? "아니, 방금 거기에 있었던 소피아 세묘노브나."

"왜?" "예감이 들어요, 두니아. 글쎄요, 믿으시든 믿지 않으시든, 그녀가 들어오자마자, 바로 그 순간, 그녀가 문제의 주범이라고 느꼈어요..." "그런 건 아니에요!" 두니아가 짜증내며 소리쳤다. "엄마, 예감이라니, 얼마나 터무니없는 소리예요! 그는 전날 저녁에야 그녀를 알게 되었고, 그녀가 들어왔을 때는 그녀를 몰랐어요." "글쎄요, 당신도 알게 될 거예요... 그녀가 걱정이에요. 하지만 알게 될 거예요, 알게 될 거예요! 너무 무서웠어요. 그녀가 그 눈으로 나를 바라보고 있었어요.

그가 그녀를 소개하기 시작했을 때, 나는 의자에 앉아 거의 가만히 있을 수 없었어요. 기억나요? 이상하게 들리겠지만, 표트르 페트로비치가 그녀에 대해 그렇게 쓰고, 그녀를 우리에게 소개해요. 당신께도요! 그러니 그는 그녀를 매우 소중히 여길 거예요." "사람들은 뭐든 쓸 거예요. 우리에 대해서도 이야기하고 글을 썼어요. 잊으셨어요? 그녀가 착한 여자라는 건 확실하고, 그게 다 터무니없는 소리라는 건 확실해요." "신이 허락해 주실지도 몰라요!" "그리고 표트르 페트로비치는 멸시받는 중상모략가예요." 두니아가 갑자기 소리쳤다. 풀케리아 알렉산드로브나는 낙담했고 대화는 다시 이어지지 않았다.

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“Heavens, Dounia,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began, as soon as they were in the street, “I really feel relieved myself at coming away—more at ease. How little did I think yesterday in the train that I could ever be glad of that.”

“I tell you again, mother, he is still very ill. Don’t you see it? Perhaps worrying about us upset him. We must be patient, and much, much can be forgiven.” “Well, you were not very patient!” Pulcheria Alexandrovna caught her up, hotly and jealously. “Do you know, Dounia, I was looking at you two. You are the very portrait of him, and not so much in face as in soul. You are both melancholy, both morose and hot-tempered, both haughty and both generous.... Surely he can’t be an egoist, Dounia. Eh? When I think of what is in store for us this evening, my heart sinks!” “Don’t be uneasy, mother. What must be, will be.” “Dounia, only think what a position we are in! What if Pyotr Petrovitch breaks it off?” poor Pulcheria Alexandrovna blurted out, incautiously.

“He won’t be worth much if he does,” answered Dounia, sharply and contemptuously. “We did well to come away,” Pulcheria Alexandrovna hurriedly broke in. “He was in a hurry about some business or other. If he gets out and has a breath of air... it is fearfully close in his room.... But where is one to get a breath of air here? The very streets here feel like shut-up rooms. Good heavens! what a town!... stay... this side... they will crush you—carrying something. Why, it is a piano they have got, I declare... how they push!... I am very much afraid of that young woman, too.” “What young woman, mother? “Why, that Sofya Semyonovna, who was there just now.”

“Why?” “I have a presentiment, Dounia. Well, you may believe it or not, but as soon as she came in, that very minute, I felt that she was the chief cause of the trouble....” “Nothing of the sort!” cried Dounia, in vexation. “What nonsense, with your presentiments, mother! He only made her acquaintance the evening before, and he did not know her when she came in.” “Well, you will see.... She worries me; but you will see, you will see! I was so frightened. She was gazing at me with those eyes.

I could scarcely sit still in my chair when he began introducing her, do you remember? It seems so strange, but Pyotr Petrovitch writes like that about her, and he introduces her to us—to you! So he must think a great deal of her.” “People will write anything. We were talked about and written about, too. Have you forgotten? I am sure that she is a good girl, and that it is all nonsense.” “God grant it may be!” “And Pyotr Petrovitch is a contemptible slanderer,” Dounia snapped out, suddenly. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was crushed; the conversation was not resumed.