“First I will kill him, and then I will go.”
“Are you going to do this for my sake, for my peace of mind or for your own sake?”
He kept silence, his eyes fixed on the ground, and then began to walk about in great strides. “What should I do?” he said, still trembling with agitation. “Tell me, Vera Vassilievna.”
“First of all, calm yourself, and explain to me why you wish to kill him and whether I desire it.”
“He is your enemy, consequently also mine.”
“Does one kill one’s enemies?”
He bent his head and seeing the pieces of the whip lying on the ground he picked them up as if he were ashamed, and put them in his pocket.
“I do not accuse him. I alone bear the blame, and he has justification,” she said with such bitter misery that Tushin took her hand.
“Vera Vassilievna,” he said, “you are suffering horribly. I do not understand,” he went on, looking at her with sympathy and admiration, “what you mean by saying that he has justification, and that you bring no accusation against him. If that’s the case, why did you wish to speak to me and call me here into the avenue?”
“Because I wanted you to know the whole truth.”