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There was no solution, but that universal solution which life

gives to all questions, even the most complex and insoluble. That

answer is: one must live in the needs of the day-that is, forget

oneself. To forget himself in sleep was impossible now, at least

till nighttime; he could not go back now to the music sung by the

decanter-women; so he must forget himself in the dream of daily

life.

"Then we shall see," Stepan Arkadyevitch said to himself, and

getting up he put on a gray dressing-gown lined with blue silk,

tied the tassels in a knot, and, drawing a deep breath of air

into his broad, bare chest, he walked to the window with his

usual confident step, turning out his feet that carried his full

frame so easily. He pulled up the blind and rang the bell loudly.

It was at once answered by the appearance of an old friend, his

valet, Matvey, carrying his clothes, his boots, and a telegram.

Matvey was followed by the barber with all the necessaries for

shaving.