“She has not said so to me; indeed she never spoke of love. She gave me the letter I handed you, and asked me to make it clear that she did not wish, and was not indeed in a condition to see you or to receive any letter from you.”
“How ridiculous to make herself and other people suffer. If you are her friend you can relieve her of her misery, her illness, and her collapse of strength. The old lady has broken down the arbour, but she has not destroyed passion, and passion will break Vera. You say yourself she is ill.”
“I did not say that passion was the cause of her illness.”
“What can have made her ill?” asked Mark.
“Your letters. You expect her in the arbour, and threaten to come to her yourself. That she cannot endure, and has asked me to tell you so.”
“She says that, but in reality....”
“She always speaks the truth.”
“Why did she give you this commission?” Receiving no answer, Mark continued: “You have her confidence, and can therefore tell her how strange it is to refuse happiness. Advise her to put an end to the wretched situation, to renounce her Grandmother’s morality, and then I propose....”
“If you understood Vera Vassilievna, you would know that hers is one of those natures that declines explanations and advice.”
“You execute your errands most brilliantly and diplomatically,” said Mark angrily.