And the idea that he might be led on by his interests, that he might seek a reconciliation with his wife on account of the sale of the forest--that idea hurt him.

When he had finished his letters, Stepan Arkadyevitch moved the office-papers close to him, rapidly looked through two pieces of business, made a few notes with a big pencil, and pushing away the papers, turned to his coffee.

As he sipped his coffee, he opened a still damp morning paper, and began reading it.