She thought he meant only to torture her further; she would not answer the question.
"Is it not enough that you have conquered me by force? Why should you care to know what my feelings are? As you say, after Wednesday I shall belong to you—You can strangle me at Milasláv if you wish. My body will be yours, but my soul you shall never soil or touch, you have no part or lot in that matter, Prince."
His eyes filled with pain.
"I will even have your soul," he said. Then, as though restraining further emotion, he went on coldly. "I have arranged that after the wedding we go to my house, and do not start for the South until Saturday. There are some things I wish to show you there. Will that be as you wish?"
"I have no wishes, it is as you please," Tamara answered monotonously.
He gave an impatient shrug, and walked up and down the room, his will kept its mastery, but it was a tremendous strain. Her words had stung him, her intense quiet and absence of emotion had produced a faint doubt. What if after all he should never be able to make her love him. For the first time in his life a hand of ice clutched his heart. He knew in those moments of agony that she meant the whole world to him.
He glanced at her slender graceful figure so listlessly leaning against the blue cushions, at her pale ethereal face, and then he turned abruptly away toward the door to the other salon.
"Come," he said, "it is of no avail to talk further, we will say goodnight." Tamara rose. The way to her room led from the opposite side.
"Goodnight then," she said, "make my adieu to Sonia and the rest. I shall go to bed," and she walked that way. The whole floor was between them, as she looked back. He stood rigid by the other door.
Then with great strides he was beside her, and had taken her in his arms.