Chapter 101: Verotchka

Verotchka Ivan Alexeyitch Ognev remembers how on that August evening he opened the glass door with a rattle and went out on to the verandah. He was wearing a light Inverness cape and a wide-brimmed straw hat, the very one that was lying with his top-boots in the dust under his bed. In one hand he had a big bundle of books and notebooks, in the other a thick knotted stick. Behind the door, holding the lamp to show the way, stood the master of the house, Kuznetsov, a bald old man with a long…