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He did not allow himself to think about it, and he did not think

about it; but all the same though he never admitted it to

himself, and had no proofs, not even suspicious evidence, in the

bottom of his heart he knew beyond all doubt that he was a

deceived husband, and he was profoundly miserable about it.

How often during those eight years of happy life with his wife

Alexey Alexandrovitch had looked at other men's faithless wives

and other deceived husbands and asked himself: "How can people

descend to that? how is it they don't put an end to such a

hideous position?" But now, when the misfortune had come upon

himself, he was so far from thinking of putting an end to the

position that he would not recognize it at all, would not

recognize it just because it was too awful, too unnatural.