I offered her a sandwich with caviar. She thanked me and put it to one side. She evidently did not wish to eat.
“Olga Nikolaevna, why don't you sit down?” the Count called to Olga.
Olga did not answer but continued to stare as immovable as a statue, looking at the bird.
“What heartless people there are,” I said, going up to Olga. “Is it possible that you, a woman, are capable of watching with indifference the suffering of this woodcock? Instead of looking at his contortions, it would be better if you ordered it to be dispatched.”
“Others suffer; let him suffer too,” Olga answered, frowning, without looking at me.
“Who else is suffering?”
“Leave me in peace!” she said hoarsely. “I am not disposed to speak to you to-day … nor with your friend, that fool the Count! Go away from me!”
She glanced at me with eyes that were full of wrath and tears. Her face was pale, her lips trembled.
“What a change!” I said as I lifted up the game-bag and wrung the woodcock's neck. “What a tone! I am astounded! Quite astounded!”
“Leave me in peace, I tell you! I'm not in the humour for jokes!”