I groped along in the dark a few steps; a bony hand seized mine.
"Is it you, Dame Louise?" I asked.
"Yes!" answered the same voice, "it is I, my fine young man."
The old woman took me up a very steep staircase, and stopped upon the landing of the third story. I recognized then, by the faint glimmer from a little garret window, the wrinkled face of the burgomaster's widow. A sly and mawkish smile half opened her toothless mouth, and made her dull eyes glitter. She pointed out a door. I opened it with a convulsive movement, and slammed it after me.
XVI.
The little room in which I found myself was quite dark, and it was some moments before I saw Annouchka. She was seated near the window, enveloped in a large shawl, her head turned away and almost concealed, like a startled bird. I felt a deep pity for her. I approached; she turned away her head still more.
"Anna Nicolaëvna!" I said to her. She turned quickly and tried to fasten her look upon mine, but had not the strength. I took her hand; it was like a dead person's, motionless and cold in mine.
"I would like," said she, attempting to smile, but her pale lips would not allow of it; "I would like—no, impossible," she murmured. She was silent; indeed, her voice grew fainter at every word.
I sat down by her.