‘What about your work?’
I made no reply. Gagin smiled good-humouredly, and we went back to L. As I caught sight of the familiar vineyard and little white house, I felt a certain sweetness—yes, sweetness in my heart, as though honey was stealthily dropping thence for me. My heart was light after what Gagin had told me.
IX
Acia met us in the very doorway of the house. I expected a laugh again; but she came to meet us, pale and silent, with downcast eyes.
‘Here he is again,’ Gagin began, ‘and he wanted to come back of his own accord, observe.’
Acia looked at me inquiringly. It was my turn now to hold out my hand, and this time I pressed her chilly fingers warmly. I felt very sorry for her. I understood now a great deal in her that had puzzled me before; her inward restlessness, her want of breeding, her desire to be striking—all became clear to me. I had had a peep into that soul; a secret scourge was always tormenting her, her ignorant self-consciousness struggled in confused alarm, but her whole nature strove towards truth. I understood why this strange little girl attracted me; it was not only by the half-wild charm of her slender body that she attracted me; I liked her soul.
Gagin began rummaging among his canvases. I suggested to Acia that she should take a turn with me in the vineyard. She agreed at once, with cheerful and almost humble readiness. We went half-way down the mountain, and sat down on a broad stone.
‘And you weren’t dull without us?’ Acia began.
‘And were you dull without me?’ I queried.