The lady sprang from the chair and heard Pan Volodyovski with astonishment; but he still spoke on:—
“I am a poor soldier, but a noble, and a man of honor. I swear to you that on my shield and on my conscience not the slightest stain can be found. I am at fault perhaps in this haste; but understand too that I am called by the country, which will not yield even for you. Will you not comfort me,—will you not give me solace, will you not say a kind word?”
“You ask the impossible. As God lives, that cannot be!” answered Olenka, with fright.
“It depends on your will.”
“For that reason I say no to you promptly.” Here she frowned. “Worthy sir, I am indebted to you much, I do not deny it. Ask what you like, I am ready to give everything except my hand.”
Pan Volodyovski rose. “Then you do not wish me, my lady? Is that true?”
“I cannot.”
“And that is your last word?”
“The last and irrevocable word.”
“Perhaps the haste only has displeased you. Give me some hope.”