"Shall we talk together now, beloved?" said an altered voice, which tried to appear firm.
"We must separate," continued Véra Pavlovna, "we must separate! I have decided upon it. It is frightful; but it would be more frightful still to continue to live in each other's sight. Am I not his murderer? Have I not killed him for you?"
"But, Vérotchka, it is not your fault."
"Do not try to justify me, unless you wish me to hate you. I am guilty. Pardon me, my beloved, for taking a resolution so painful to you. To me also it is painful, but is the only one that we can take. You will soon recognize it yourself. So be it, then! I wish first to fly from this city, which would remind me too vividly of the past. The sale of my effects will afford me some resources. I will go to Tver, to Nijni,[1] I know not where, and it matters little. I will seek a chance to give singing-lessons; being in a great city, I shall probably find one; or else I will become a governess. I can always earn what is necessary. But in case I should be unable to get enough, I will appeal to you. I count then on you; and let that prove to you that you are ever dear to me. And now we must say farewell . . . . farewell forever! Go away directly; I shall be better alone; and tomorrow you can come back, for I shall be here no longer. I go to Moscow; there I will find out what city is best adapted to my purpose. I forbid your presence at the depot at the time of my departure. Farewell, then, my beloved; give me your hand that I may press it a last time before we separate forever."
He desired to embrace her; but she thrust him back forcibly, saying:
"No! that would be an outrage upon him. Give me your hand; do you feel with what force I press it? But adieu!"
He kept her hand in his till she withdrew it, he not daring to resist.
"Enough! Go! Adieu!"
And after having encircled him with a look of ineffable tenderness, she retired with a firm step and without turning back her head.
He went about, dazed, like a drunken man, unable to find his hat, though he held it in his hand without knowing it; at last, however, he took his overcoat from the hall and started off. But he had not yet reached the gateway when he heard footsteps behind him. Doubtless it was Macha. Had she vanished? He turned around; it wasVéra Pavlovna, who threw herself into his arms and said, embracing him with ardor:
"I could not resist, dear friend; and now farewell forever!"
She ran rapidly away, threw herself upon her bed, and burst into tears.
- ↑ Nijni Novgorod.
