When she came in, she found Kahn lying flat on his back, his eyes wide open.
“Couldn’t you sleep?”
“No, I could not sleep.”
She was angry. “I’m sorry—you suffer.”
“Yes, a little.”
“Kahn,” she cried in anguish, flinging herself on her knees beside him. “What should I have done, what shall I do?”
He put his hand on her cheek. “My dear, my dear,” he said, and sighed. “I perhaps was wrong.”
She listened.
“Very wrong, I see it all now; I am an evil man, an old and an evil being.”
“No, no!”