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           "Ilikethelittlehouse,"sheadmitted;"butIsupposewhatIlikeistheblessednessofitsbeinghere,inmyowncountryandmyowntown;andthen,ofbeingaloneinit."Shespokesolowthathehardlyheardthelastphrase;butinhisawkwardnesshetookitup."Youlikesomuchtobealone?""Yes;aslongasmyfriendskeepmefromfeelinglonely."Shesatdownnearthefire,said:"Nastasiawillbringtheteapresently,"andsignedtohimtoreturntohisarmchair,adding:"Iseeyou’vealreadychosenyourcorner."Leaningback,shefoldedherarmsbehindherhead,andlookedatthefireunderdroopinglids."ThisisthehourIlikebest—don’tyou?"Apropersenseofhisdignitycausedhimtoanswer:"Iwasafraidyou’dforgottenthehour.Beaufortmusthavebeenveryengrossing."Shelookedamused."Why—haveyouwaitedlong?Mr.Beauforttookmetoseeanumberofhouses—sinceitseemsI’mnottobeallowedtostayinthisone."SheappearedtodismissbothBeaufortandhimselffromhermind,andwenton:"I’veneverbeeninacitywherethereseemstobesuchafeelingagainstlivingindesquartiersexcentriques.Whatdoesitmatterwhereonelives?I’mtoldthisstreetisrespectable.""It’snotfashionable.""Fashionable!Doyouallthinksomuchofthat?Whynotmakeone’sownfashions?ButIsupposeI’velivedtooindependently;atanyrate,Iwanttodowhatyoualldo—Iwanttofeelcaredforandsafe."Hewastouched,ashehadbeentheeveningbeforewhenshespokeofherneedofguidance."That’swhatyourfriendswantyoutofeel.