yesterday, and wrote that he would be here; but I was not expecting him any longer."
I hear the servant's steps in the ante-room, and the door as it opens. Obojanski leaves the room, and presently I recognize that voice—his voice! He is explaining the cause of his delay in coming.
"Have you any one with you?" he asks, evidently averse to seeing strangers now.
"No, no; only Smilowicz and Miss Dernowicz, whom you know. … Come along."
This time my self-control has quite forsaken me, and I feel my face on fire. … My first impulse is to jump up from my chair and welcome him; fortunately, I have not the strength to rise.
I keep silence, hanging down my head, so as to conceal the working of my features. Smilowicz says something to me, but I cannot make out what.
In comes Roslawski; I bow without looking him in the face; indeed, I scarce raise my head at all.
I am terribly afraid I shall do some unexpected thing. A wild unaccountable terror comes over me, such as one feels when about to faint. I clench my teeth, expectant.
