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Prince Vasili was not a man who deliberately thought out his

plans. Still less did he think of injuring anyone for his own

advantage. He was merely a man of the world who had got on and to

whom getting on had become a habit. Schemes and devices for which

he never rightly accounted to himself, but which formed the whole

interest of his life, were constantly shaping themselves in his

mind, arising from the circumstances and persons he met. Of these

plans he had not merely one or two in his head but dozens, some

only beginning to form themselves, some approaching achievement,

and some in course of disintegration.