XX.
Quickly going up the vineyard road, I perceived a light in Annouchka's room. This sight calmed me a little. I approached the house; the entrance door was closed. I knocked. A window that had no light opened softly in the lower story, and Gaguine thrust out his head.
"You have found her?" I asked him.
"She has returned," he answered in a low voice. "She is in her room and is going to bed. All is for the best."
"God be praised!" I cried, in a paroxysm of indescribable joy. "God be praised! Then everything is all right; but you know we have not had our talk together."
"Not now," he answered, half closing the window; "another time. In the meanwhile, farewell!"
"To-morrow," I said, "to-morrow will decide everything."
"Farewell," repeated Gaguine.
The window closed.