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Heymarket

heymarket

Hey Hackers, Sprinto has been nominated for HackerNoon's Startup of the Year 2024 awards in San Francisco, under the Data Privacy And Compliance category. Please vote for us here: https://hackernoon.com/startups/industry/data-privacy-and-compliance?stup=66b3ed0434a7dea7f8f8389e&embedable=true Meet Sprinto Sprinto is in the business of security compliance for fast-growing companies. Thousands of ambitious businesses rely on Sprinto to automate and streamline risk and compliance management. Sprinto supports major security frameworks like SOC 2, ISO 27001, GDPR, HIPAA, and PCI-DSS, as well as custom, industry-specific standards. With ready-to-use tools and templates, plus intelligent features such as smart workflows, adaptive automation, and AI, Sprinto provides a complete toolkit for navigating infosec risk and regulatory requirements— ensuring compliance and audits never hinder growth. We are on a mission to help businesses with continuous compliance, healthy operational practices, and the ability to grow and scale with unwavering confidence. How Sprinto achieved product-market fit Sprinto was born from a problem we experienced firsthand. Back when we were running Recruiterbox, compliance was a constant, nagging challenge that seemed to pull us away from what mattered most. We spent countless hours manually managing requirements, feeling how it drained our team’s energy and slowed down our growth. It became clear that we weren’t the only ones struggling—compliance was holding so many companies back. Determined to make a difference, we set out to build Sprinto, but we knew we couldn’t do it alone. From the start, we partnered closely with a small group of beta customers who became our co-creators in the process. They shared their frustrations and guided us to understand their biggest pain points. Their feedback was raw and direct, pushing us to get it right. Together with our early customers, we shaped Sprinto into a tool that didn’t just meet the requirements—it made compliance feel manageable, intuitive, and even empowering. Sprinto’s journey to product-market fit was deeply personal and powered by real-world insights. We’re proud that it’s a platform built out of experience, forged in partnership, and dedicated to making compliance simple and effective. It’s more than a product; it’s a solution we wished we’d had all along. The Evolution of Sprinto Sprinto’s journey began with our Co-founders, Girish Redekar and Raghuveer Kancherla, drawing from their experience at Recruiterbox. They had firsthand knowledge of how daunting and tedious compliance could be, and they set out to change that with Sprinto. As Girish puts it, “The very first wall I hit was deciphering security questionnaires for enterprise deals. We were doing great, signing new clients, and then—bam!—we got hit with these detailed security reviews. Sure, we had solid security in place, but explaining it clearly to enterprise clients? That was a whole different story.” Girish recalls sitting through calls, confidently answering questions about their security practices, only to be thrown off by sophisticated jargon that left them scrambling. It wasn’t until he reached out to fellow founders for guidance that things started to click. This experience opened their eyes to a huge gap in the market—companies of all sizes were struggling with compliance, and they needed someone who could help them navigate the complex process without the steep learning curve. That realization is what led to the creation of Sprinto, a solution built to guide businesses through the intricate maze of compliance with ease and confidence. Milestones and achievements Lessons learned From day one, we knew Sprinto’s success depended on more than just hiring the right people—it was about building a team grounded in shared values and commitment to our mission, which is also why you’ll see our hiring process is unlike any other you’ve seen. We invested time and resources to find individuals whose skills and personalities aligned with our vision, creating a team that’s as resilient as it is innovative. Their adaptability has been the driving force behind Sprinto’s growth. We also discovered early that customer delight wasn’t just a checkbox; it had to be our guiding star. Every update, every feature, every tweak was designed with one goal in mind: to exceed expectations. Listening, iterating, and prioritizing customer experience turned Sprinto into a platform that feels tailor-made for its users, not just functional but something that helps scale our customers’ businesses. Of course, we faced significant challenges along the way. Rapid scaling brought growing pains, teaching us that sustainable growth requires robust processes and a grounded team culture. Building trust in a security-driven industry was another hurdle, but transparency became our most valuable asset. By delivering tangible value, we converted doubt into confidence and learned the power of authenticity. Each lesson, challenge, and success has shaped Sprinto into what it is today—a platform built not just for today’s needs but tomorrow’s, too. We move forward with a commitment to evolving alongside our customers, continually redefining what’s possible in this space. What Startups of The Year means to us At Sprinto, this nomination feels like a big milestone in our journey. It’s a chance for us to share what we've built, learn from fellow innovators, and connect with partners who can truly benefit from what we do. But more than anything, it’s a moment to recognize our incredible team—the people who show up every day, staying focused and delivering, no matter what. As we grow, it only gets harder to keep the same energy, values, and momentum that started it all. But this recognition, alongside everything we’ve achieved so far, reminds us why we’re here: to revolutionize the GRC space. And we’re not slowing down anytime soon. We are extremely humbled and immensely proud to support thousands of businesses—from young, enterprising startups to established enterprises—in seeding, streamlining, and scaling one of the most complex yet critical aspects of any successful business: trust. We invite you to support our vision by voting for Sprinto and joining us in shaping the future of compliance. Vote for us today! Hey Hackers, Sprinto has been nominated for HackerNoon's Startup of the Year 2024 awards in San Francisco, under the Data Privacy And Compliance category. HackerNoon's Startup of the Year 2024 HackerNoon's Startup of the Year 2024 Please vote for us here: https://hackernoon.com/startups/industry/data-privacy-and-compliance?stup=66b3ed0434a7dea7f8f8389e&embedable=true https://hackernoon.com/startups/industry/data-privacy-and-compliance?stup=66b3ed0434a7dea7f8f8389e&embedable=true Meet Sprinto Sprinto is in the business of security compliance for fast-growing companies. Thousands of ambitious businesses rely on Sprinto to automate and streamline risk and compliance management. Sprinto supports major security frameworks like SOC 2, ISO 27001, GDPR, HIPAA, and PCI-DSS, as well as custom, industry-specific standards. With ready-to-use tools and templates, plus intelligent features such as smart workflows, adaptive automation, and AI, Sprinto provides a complete toolkit for navigating infosec risk and regulatory requirements— ensuring compliance and audits never hinder growth. We are on a mission to help businesses with continuous compliance, healthy operational practices, and the ability to grow and scale with unwavering confidence. How Sprinto achieved product-market fit How Sprinto achieved product-market fit Sprinto was born from a problem we experienced firsthand. Back when we were running Recruiterbox, compliance was a constant, nagging challenge that seemed to pull us away from what mattered most. We spent countless hours manually managing requirements, feeling how it drained our team’s energy and slowed down our growth. It became clear that we weren’t the only ones struggling—compliance was holding so many companies back. Determined to make a difference, we set out to build Sprinto, but we knew we couldn’t do it alone. From the start, we partnered closely with a small group of beta customers who became our co-creators in the process. They shared their frustrations and guided us to understand their biggest pain points. Their feedback was raw and direct, pushing us to get it right. Together with our early customers, we shaped Sprinto into a tool that didn’t just meet the requirements—it made compliance feel manageable, intuitive, and even empowering. Sprinto’s journey to product-market fit was deeply personal and powered by real-world insights. We’re proud that it’s a platform built out of experience, forged in partnership, and dedicated to making compliance simple and effective. It’s more than a product; it’s a solution we wished we’d had all along. The Evolution of Sprinto The Evolution of Sprinto Sprinto’s journey began with our Co-founders, Girish Redekar and Raghuveer Kancherla, drawing from their experience at Recruiterbox. They had firsthand knowledge of how daunting and tedious compliance could be, and they set out to change that with Sprinto. As Girish puts it, “The very first wall I hit was deciphering security questionnaires for enterprise deals. We were doing great, signing new clients, and then—bam!—we got hit with these detailed security reviews. Sure, we had solid security in place, but explaining it clearly to enterprise clients? That was a whole different story.” “The very first wall I hit was deciphering security questionnaires for enterprise deals. We were doing great, signing new clients, and then—bam!—we got hit with these detailed security reviews. Sure, we had solid security in place, but explaining it clearly to enterprise clients? That was a whole different story.” Girish recalls sitting through calls, confidently answering questions about their security practices, only to be thrown off by sophisticated jargon that left them scrambling. It wasn’t until he reached out to fellow founders for guidance that things started to click. This experience opened their eyes to a huge gap in the market—companies of all sizes were struggling with compliance, and they needed someone who could help them navigate the complex process without the steep learning curve. That realization is what led to the creation of Sprinto, a solution built to guide businesses through the intricate maze of compliance with ease and confidence. Milestones and achievements Milestones and achievements Lessons learned Lessons learned From day one, we knew Sprinto’s success depended on more than just hiring the right people—it was about building a team grounded in shared values and commitment to our mission, which is also why you’ll see our hiring process is unlike any other you’ve seen. We invested time and resources to find individuals whose skills and personalities aligned with our vision, creating a team that’s as resilient as it is innovative. Their adaptability has been the driving force behind Sprinto’s growth. We also discovered early that customer delight wasn’t just a checkbox; it had to be our guiding star. Every update, every feature, every tweak was designed with one goal in mind: to exceed expectations. Listening, iterating, and prioritizing customer experience turned Sprinto into a platform that feels tailor-made for its users, not just functional but something that helps scale our customers’ businesses. Of course, we faced significant challenges along the way. Rapid scaling brought growing pains, teaching us that sustainable growth requires robust processes and a grounded team culture. Building trust in a security-driven industry was another hurdle, but transparency became our most valuable asset. By delivering tangible value, we converted doubt into confidence and learned the power of authenticity. Each lesson, challenge, and success has shaped Sprinto into what it is today—a platform built not just for today’s needs but tomorrow’s, too. We move forward with a commitment to evolving alongside our customers, continually redefining what’s possible in this space. What Startups of The Year means to us What Startups of The Year means to us At Sprinto, this nomination feels like a big milestone in our journey. It’s a chance for us to share what we've built, learn from fellow innovators, and connect with partners who can truly benefit from what we do. But more than anything, it’s a moment to recognize our incredible team—the people who show up every day, staying focused and delivering, no matter what. As we grow, it only gets harder to keep the same energy, values, and momentum that started it all. But this recognition, alongside everything we’ve achieved so far, reminds us why we’re here: to revolutionize the GRC space. And we’re not slowing down anytime soon. We are extremely humbled and immensely proud to support thousands of businesses—from young, enterprising startups to established enterprises—in seeding, streamlining, and scaling one of the most complex yet critical aspects of any successful business: trust. We invite you to support our vision by voting for Sprinto and joining us in shaping the future of compliance. Vote for us today! Vote for us today ! Vote for us today

Meet Sprinto, Startups of the Year 2024 Nominee

THE PARTY

MRS. HURTLE GOES TO THE PLAY

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book .  IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS CONVINCED THAT HE HAS AT LAST FOUND HIS IDEAL here CHAPTER II. IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS CONVINCED THAT HE HAS AT LAST FOUND HIS IDEAL “Faith,” muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, “I’ve seen people at Madame Tussaud’s as lively as my new master!” Madame Tussaud’s “people,” let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human. During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in the highest degree what physiognomists call “repose in action,” a quality of those who act rather than talk. Calm and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a perfect type of that English composure which Angelica Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer. Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed even in the expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals, the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions. He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was economical alike of his steps and his motions. He never took one step too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he made no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always reached his destination at the exact moment. He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation; and as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody. As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. Since he had abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he had in vain searched for a master after his own heart. Passepartout was by no means one of those pert dunces depicted by Molière with a bold gaze and a nose held high in the air; he was an honest fellow, with a pleasant face, lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and serviceable, with a good round head, such as one likes to see on the shoulders of a friend. His eyes were blue, his complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, his body muscular, and his physical powers fully developed by the exercises of his younger days. His brown hair was somewhat tumbled; for, while the ancient sculptors are said to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva’s tresses, Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing his own: three strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his toilet. It would be rash to predict how Passepartout’s lively nature would agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell whether the new servant would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required; experience alone could solve the question. Passepartout had been a sort of vagrant in his early years, and now yearned for repose; but so far he had failed to find it, though he had already served in ten English houses. But he could not take root in any of these; with chagrin, he found his masters invariably whimsical and irregular, constantly running about the country, or on the look-out for adventure. His last master, young Lord Longferry, Member of Parliament, after passing his nights in the Haymarket taverns, was too often brought home in the morning on policemen’s shoulders. Passepartout, desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served, ventured a mild remonstrance on such conduct; which, being ill-received, he took his leave. Hearing that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one of unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed from home overnight, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after. He presented himself, and was accepted, as has been seen. At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone in the house in Saville Row. He began its inspection without delay, scouring it from cellar to garret. So clean, well-arranged, solemn a mansion pleased him; it seemed to him like a snail’s shell, lighted and warmed by gas, which sufficed for both these purposes. When Passepartout reached the second story he recognised at once the room which he was to inhabit, and he was well satisfied with it. Electric bells and speaking-tubes afforded communication with the lower stories; while on the mantel stood an electric clock, precisely like that in Mr. Fogg’s bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant. “That’s good, that’ll do,” said Passepartout to himself. He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club—all the details of service, the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was regulated and foreseen that was to be done from half-past eleven a.m. till midnight, the hour at which the methodical gentleman retired. Mr. Fogg’s wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best taste. Each pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, indicating the time of year and season at which they were in turn to be laid out for wearing; and the same system was applied to the master’s shoes. In short, the house in Saville Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder and unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was cosiness, comfort, and method idealised. There was no study, nor were there books, which would have been quite useless to Mr. Fogg; for at the Reform two libraries, one of general literature and the other of law and politics, were at his service. A moderate-sized safe stood in his bedroom, constructed so as to defy fire as well as burglars; but Passepartout found neither arms nor hunting weapons anywhere; everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits. Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he rubbed his hands, a broad smile overspread his features, and he said joyfully, “This is just what I wanted! Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine; well, I don’t mind serving a machine.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (1994). Around the World in Eighty Days. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/103/103-h/103-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS CONVINCED THAT HE HAS AT LAST FOUND HIS IDEAL

One of the problems when it comes to application security in the Wild West of the World Wide Web is how expensive it can be. According to the website IT, businesses can spend around ten percent of the annual IT budget on application security on the web, so working to defend your website can be incredibly costly. When it comes to defending web applications, there needs to be a way to be able to provide individuals and larger organizations with the tools necessary to defend their web apps and websites without having to break the budget. Web app security needs to be something that is freely available to the general public and fortunately, there is a man back in 2001 who agreed that web security and securing applications during the web development process should be something anyone with a computer should access. Thanks to , web security can be free! Imagine Mark Curphey Mark Curphey was the man who, in September of 2001, created the non-profit organization known as , or the Open Worldwide Application Security Project if you want to go with the full name. The goal of this organization was to produce an online community that creates free articles, methodologies, documents, tools, and technologies for the field of web application security to help those without deep pockets get the resources they need to defend their websites and their web apps. While providing tools for people around the globe, the group was originally only based in the United States and it took three years for OWASP to officially be registered as a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization in the US. Yet by 2011, OWASP became registered as a non-profit in Belgium under the name OWASP , giving the company a presence outside of the US and a seat in another location that is at of IT technology! OWASP Europe the heart OWASP has been a pretty effective organization and it has even gotten an award from Haymarket Media Group’s - a magazine that was created for cybersecurity professionals and amateurs to give in-depth news and analysis in the field of IT Security -  back in 2014! It has given lists of the security risks for APIs, web apps, and other programs related to web development every single year since 2003! It also provides a practical development guide for various popular web tools & web languages such as PHP, J2EE, and ASP.Net; a guide for reviewing code; information on how to speed up and automate application security programs; and guides for penetration testing for seeing how powerful your security for your web apps is when it comes to external attacks from hackers and malware! SC Magazine Top 10 While OWASP is a very important organization and can help people who need to give proper security to their web development projects in an open-source manner, there to be internal issues that have threatened to make OWASP a less effective organization in the modern cybersecurity landscape. According to an open letter of members, contributors, and supporters have questioned the viability of OWASP in the modern internet since OWASP - according to the letter - is losing its ability to keep pace with the modern landscape of web security and the growing threats appearing from both amateur & state actors. This letter was published in February of this year and raises concerns due to a lack of changes to keep OWASP relevant, stating that  “The gap between what our projects and the community around them want, and the support that OWASP provides, continues to grow wider.” seem signed by dozens With these issues, I hope OWASP is able to fix its issues and continue to provide free web security services for the developers of tomorrow. This group helped to revolutionize web development security by making these tools free and creating an active community dedicated to making sure anyone can protect their digital systems, no matter if they had plenty of money or none at all!

OWASP: The Free Resource For Website Security

Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Part II. À Propos of the Wet Snow - VII Part II. À Propos of the Wet Snow - VII “Oh, hush, Liza! How can you talk about being like a book, when it makes even me, an outsider, feel sick? Though I don’t look at it as an outsider, for, indeed, it touches me to the heart.... Is it possible, is it possible that you do not feel sick at being here yourself? Evidently habit does wonders! God knows what habit can do with anyone. Can you seriously think that you will never grow old, that you will always be good-looking, and that they will keep you here for ever and ever? I say nothing of the loathsomeness of the life here.... Though let me tell you this about it—about your present life, I mean; here though you are young now, attractive, nice, with soul and feeling, yet you know as soon as I came to myself just now I felt at once sick at being here with you! One can only come here when one is drunk. But if you were anywhere else, living as good people live, I should perhaps be more than attracted by you, should fall in love with you, should be glad of a look from you, let alone a word; I should hang about your door, should go down on my knees to you, should look upon you as my betrothed and think it an honour to be allowed to. I should not dare to have an impure thought about you. But here, you see, I know that I have only to whistle and you have to come with me whether you like it or not. I don’t consult your wishes, but you mine. The lowest labourer hires himself as a workman, but he doesn’t make a slave of himself altogether; besides, he knows that he will be free again presently. But when are you free? Only think what you are giving up here? What is it you are making a slave of? It is your soul, together with your body; you are selling your soul which you have no right to dispose of! You give your love to be outraged by every drunkard! Love! But that’s everything, you know, it’s a priceless diamond, it’s a maiden’s treasure, love—why, a man would be ready to give his soul, to face death to gain that love. But how much is your love worth now? You are sold, all of you, body and soul, and there is no need to strive for love when you can have everything without love. And you know there is no greater insult to a girl than that, do you understand? To be sure, I have heard that they comfort you, poor fools, they let you have lovers of your own here. But you know that’s simply a farce, that’s simply a sham, it’s just laughing at you, and you are taken in by it! Why, do you suppose he really loves you, that lover of yours? I don’t believe it. How can he love you when he knows you may be called away from him any minute? He would be a low fellow if he did! Will he have a grain of respect for you? What have you in common with him? He laughs at you and robs you—that is all his love amounts to! You are lucky if he does not beat you. Very likely he does beat you, too. Ask him, if you have got one, whether he will marry you. He will laugh in your face, if he doesn’t spit in it or give you a blow—though maybe he is not worth a bad halfpenny himself. And for what have you ruined your life, if you come to think of it? For the coffee they give you to drink and the plentiful meals? But with what object are they feeding you up? An honest girl couldn’t swallow the food, for she would know what she was being fed for. You are in debt here, and, of course, you will always be in debt, and you will go on in debt to the end, till the visitors here begin to scorn you. And that will soon happen, don’t rely upon your youth—all that flies by express train here, you know. You will be kicked out. And not simply kicked out; long before that she’ll begin nagging at you, scolding you, abusing you, as though you had not sacrificed your health for her, had not thrown away your youth and your soul for her benefit, but as though you had ruined her, beggared her, robbed her. And don’t expect anyone to take your part: the others, your companions, will attack you, too, win her favour, for all are in slavery here, and have lost all conscience and pity here long ago. They have become utterly vile, and nothing on earth is viler, more loathsome, and more insulting than their abuse. And you are laying down everything here, unconditionally, youth and health and beauty and hope, and at twenty-two you will look like a woman of five-and-thirty, and you will be lucky if you are not diseased, pray to God for that! No doubt you are thinking now that you have a gay time and no work to do! Yet there is no work harder or more dreadful in the world or ever has been. One would think that the heart alone would be worn out with tears. And you won’t dare to say a word, not half a word when they drive you away from here; you will go away as though you were to blame. You will change to another house, then to a third, then somewhere else, till you come down at last to the Haymarket. There you will be beaten at every turn; that is good manners there, the visitors don’t know how to be friendly without beating you. You don’t believe that it is so hateful there? Go and look for yourself some time, you can see with your own eyes. Once, one New Year’s Day, I saw a woman at a door. They had turned her out as a joke, to give her a taste of the frost because she had been crying so much, and they shut the door behind her. At nine o’clock in the morning she was already quite drunk, dishevelled, half-naked, covered with bruises, her face was powdered, but she had a black-eye, blood was trickling from her nose and her teeth; some cabman had just given her a drubbing. She was sitting on the stone steps, a salt fish of some sort was in her hand; she was crying, wailing something about her luck and beating with the fish on the steps, and cabmen and drunken soldiers were crowding in the doorway taunting her. You don’t believe that you will ever be like that? I should be sorry to believe it, too, but how do you know; maybe ten years, eight years ago that very woman with the salt fish came here fresh as a cherub, innocent, pure, knowing no evil, blushing at every word. Perhaps she was like you, proud, ready to take offence, not like the others; perhaps she looked like a queen, and knew what happiness was in store for the man who should love her and whom she should love. Do you see how it ended? And what if at that very minute when she was beating on the filthy steps with that fish, drunken and dishevelled—what if at that very minute she recalled the pure early days in her father’s house, when she used to go to school and the neighbour’s son watched for her on the way, declaring that he would love her as long as he lived, that he would devote his life to her, and when they vowed to love one another for ever and be married as soon as they were grown up! No, Liza, it would be happy for you if you were to die soon of consumption in some corner, in some cellar like that woman just now. In the hospital, do you say? You will be lucky if they take you, but what if you are still of use to the madam here? Consumption is a queer disease, it is not like fever. The patient goes on hoping till the last minute and says he is all right. He deludes himself And that just suits your madam. Don’t doubt it, that’s how it is; you have sold your soul, and what is more you owe money, so you daren’t say a word. But when you are dying, all will abandon you, all will turn away from you, for then there will be nothing to get from you. What’s more, they will reproach you for cumbering the place, for being so long over dying. However you beg you won’t get a drink of water without abuse: ‘Whenever are you going off, you nasty hussy, you won’t let us sleep with your moaning, you make the gentlemen sick.’ That’s true, I have heard such things said myself. They will thrust you dying into the filthiest corner in the cellar—in the damp and darkness; what will your thoughts be, lying there alone? When you die, strange hands will lay you out, with grumbling and impatience; no one will bless you, no one will sigh for you, they only want to get rid of you as soon as may be; they will buy a coffin, take you to the grave as they did that poor woman today, and celebrate your memory at the tavern. In the grave, sleet, filth, wet snow—no need to put themselves out for you—‘Let her down, Vanuha; it’s just like her luck—even here, she is head-foremost, the hussy. Shorten the cord, you rascal.’ ‘It’s all right as it is.’ ‘All right, is it? Why, she’s on her side! She was a fellow-creature, after all! But, never mind, throw the earth on her.’ And they won’t care to waste much time quarrelling over you. They will scatter the wet blue clay as quick as they can and go off to the tavern ... and there your memory on earth will end; other women have children to go to their graves, fathers, husbands. While for you neither tear, nor sigh, nor remembrance; no one in the whole world will ever come to you, your name will vanish from the face of the earth—as though you had never existed, never been born at all! Nothing but filth and mud, however you knock at your coffin lid at night, when the dead arise, however you cry: ‘Let me out, kind people, to live in the light of day! My life was no life at all; my life has been thrown away like a dish-clout; it was drunk away in the tavern at the Haymarket; let me out, kind people, to live in the world again.’” And I worked myself up to such a pitch that I began to have a lump in my throat myself, and ... and all at once I stopped, sat up in dismay and, bending over apprehensively, began to listen with a beating heart. I had reason to be troubled. I had felt for some time that I was turning her soul upside down and rending her heart, and—and the more I was convinced of it, the more eagerly I desired to gain my object as quickly and as effectually as possible. It was the exercise of my skill that carried me away; yet it was not merely sport.... I knew I was speaking stiffly, artificially, even bookishly, in fact, I could not speak except “like a book.” But that did not trouble me: I knew, I felt that I should be understood and that this very bookishness might be an assistance. But now, having attained my effect, I was suddenly panic-stricken. Never before had I witnessed such despair! She was lying on her face, thrusting her face into the pillow and clutching it in both hands. Her heart was being torn. Her youthful body was shuddering all over as though in convulsions. Suppressed sobs rent her bosom and suddenly burst out in weeping and wailing, then she pressed closer into the pillow: she did not want anyone here, not a living soul, to know of her anguish and her tears. She bit the pillow, bit her hand till it bled (I saw that afterwards), or, thrusting her fingers into her dishevelled hair, seemed rigid with the effort of restraint, holding her breath and clenching her teeth. I began saying something, begging her to calm herself, but felt that I did not dare; and all at once, in a sort of cold shiver, almost in terror, began fumbling in the dark, trying hurriedly to get dressed to go. It was dark; though I tried my best I could not finish dressing quickly. Suddenly I felt a box of matches and a candlestick with a whole candle in it. As soon as the room was lighted up, Liza sprang up, sat up in bed, and with a contorted face, with a half insane smile, looked at me almost senselessly. I sat down beside her and took her hands; she came to herself, made an impulsive movement towards me, would have caught hold of me, but did not dare, and slowly bowed her head before me. “Liza, my dear, I was wrong ... forgive me, my dear,” I began, but she squeezed my hand in her fingers so tightly that I felt I was saying the wrong thing and stopped. “This is my address, Liza, come to me.” “I will come,” she answered resolutely, her head still bowed. “But now I am going, good-bye ... till we meet again.” I got up; she, too, stood up and suddenly flushed all over, gave a shudder, snatched up a shawl that was lying on a chair and muffled herself in it to her chin. As she did this she gave another sickly smile, blushed and looked at me strangely. I felt wretched; I was in haste to get away—to disappear. “Wait a minute,” she said suddenly, in the passage just at the doorway, stopping me with her hand on my overcoat. She put down the candle in hot haste and ran off; evidently she had thought of something or wanted to show me something. As she ran away she flushed, her eyes shone, and there was a smile on her lips—what was the meaning of it? Against my will I waited: she came back a minute later with an expression that seemed to ask forgiveness for something. In fact, it was not the same face, not the same look as the evening before: sullen, mistrustful and obstinate. Her eyes now were imploring, soft, and at the same time trustful, caressing, timid. The expression with which children look at people they are very fond of, of whom they are asking a favour. Her eyes were a light hazel, they were lovely eyes, full of life, and capable of expressing love as well as sullen hatred. Making no explanation, as though I, as a sort of higher being, must understand everything without explanations, she held out a piece of paper to me. Her whole face was positively beaming at that instant with naive, almost childish, triumph. I unfolded it. It was a letter to her from a medical student or someone of that sort—a very high-flown and flowery, but extremely respectful, love-letter. I don’t recall the words now, but I remember well that through the high-flown phrases there was apparent a genuine feeling, which cannot be feigned. When I had finished reading it I met her glowing, questioning, and childishly impatient eyes fixed upon me. She fastened her eyes upon my face and waited impatiently for what I should say. In a few words, hurriedly, but with a sort of joy and pride, she explained to me that she had been to a dance somewhere in a private house, a family of “very nice people, who knew nothing, absolutely nothing, for she had only come here so lately and it had all happened ... and she hadn’t made up her mind to stay and was certainly going away as soon as she had paid her debt...” and at that party there had been the student who had danced with her all the evening. He had talked to her, and it turned out that he had known her in old days at Riga when he was a child, they had played together, but a very long time ago—and he knew her parents, but about this he knew nothing, nothing whatever, and had no suspicion! And the day after the dance (three days ago) he had sent her that letter through the friend with whom she had gone to the party ... and ... well, that was all. She dropped her shining eyes with a sort of bashfulness as she finished. The poor girl was keeping that student’s letter as a precious treasure, and had run to fetch it, her only treasure, because she did not want me to go away without knowing that she, too, was honestly and genuinely loved; that she, too, was addressed respectfully. No doubt that letter was destined to lie in her box and lead to nothing. But none the less, I am certain that she would keep it all her life as a precious treasure, as her pride and justification, and now at such a minute she had thought of that letter and brought it with naive pride to raise herself in my eyes that I might see, that I, too, might think well of her. I said nothing, pressed her hand and went out. I so longed to get away ... I walked all the way home, in spite of the fact that the melting snow was still falling in heavy flakes. I was exhausted, shattered, in bewilderment. But behind the bewilderment the truth was already gleaming. The loathsome truth. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1996). Notes from the Underground. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/600/pg600-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

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