“But can you not see? Do you comprehend, you Hardross? O, it is a madness, I want to explain it to you but it is all so gross, so swift, like a vulture. You see it is impossible for me to remain an hour longer, an hour in England impossible absolutely; there are reasons, lives perhaps, depending on my return. Yes, it is true; we live in Russia, do you see, and in Russia ... ah, you understand! But how shall I leave this woman here?”
Madame stared at him with curious inquisitiveness, beating her hands upon the arm of the chair as if she expected an answer, a prompt one:
“Of course she will not go away from you now, of course, of course, she has never had a lover before—how could she, poor thing. I understand it, she is not a child. And you Mr. Hardross you are a generous man, you have courage, a good man, a man of his honour, O yes, it is true, I see it, I feel it, and so she will not be torn away from you now. I understand that, she is no longer a child.”
Madame rose and took him by the arm. “Marry her, my friend! Do not you see? I can leave her to you. Marry her at once, marry her!” She stood as if it were something that could be done on the spot, as easy as giving one a cup of tea. But he did not hesitate.
“Why, I would give my soul to do it!” he cried, and rushed away down the stairs to Julia.
And surely she was as wise as she was beautiful, and as rich as she was wise.
THE TRUMPETERS