RUDIN
Natalya’s hands trembled feebly in his.
‘I love you!’ he repeated, ‘and how could I have deceived myself so long? How was it I did not guess long ago that I love you? And you? Natalya Alexyevna, tell me!’
Natalya could scarcely draw her breath.
‘You see I have come here,’ she uttered, at last.
‘No, say that you love me!’
‘I think—yes,’ she whispered.
Rudin pressed her hands still more warmly, and tried to draw her to him.
Natalya looked quickly round.
‘Let me go—I am frightened. . . . I think some one is listening to us. . . . For God’s sake, be on your guard. Volintsev suspects.’
‘Never mind him! You saw I did not even answer him to-day. . . . Ah, Natalya Alexyevna, how happy I am! Nothing shall sever us now!’
Natalya looked into his eyes.
‘Let me go,’ she whispered; ‘it’s time.’
‘One instant,’ began Rudin.
‘No, let me go, let me go.’
‘You seem afraid of me.’
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