I knew that if I once let myself see her I should not have strength to go on refusing what she wanted.

In my perplexity I did not know whose aid and advice to seek.

Had my benefactor been here he would have told me what to do.

I went to my room and reread Joseph Alexeevich's letters and recalled my conversations with him, and deduced from it all that I ought not to refuse a suppliant, and ought to reach a helping hand to everyone--especially to one so closely bound to me--and that I must bear my cross.