Insarov bowed down before her. ‘O Elena!’ he whispered, ‘I don’t dare to look at you.’
‘Why? Andrei Petrovitch is so good. I was not ashamed before him. And what have I to be ashamed of? I am ready to tell all the world that I am yours.... And Andrei Petrovitch I trust like a brother.’
‘He saved me!’ cried Insarov. ‘He is the noblest, kindest of men!’
‘Yes... And do you know I owe everything to him? Do you know that it was he who first told me that you loved me? And if I could tell you everything.... Yes, he is a noble man.’
Insarov looked steadily at Elena. ‘He is in love with you, isn’t he?’
Elena dropped her eyes. ‘He did love me,’ she said in an undertone.
Insarov pressed her hand warmly. ‘Oh you Russians,’ he said, ‘you have hearts of pure gold! And he, he has been waiting on me, he has not slept at night. And you, you, my angel.... No reproaches, no hesitations... and all this for me, for me——’
‘Yes, yes, all for you, because they love you. Ah, Dmitri! How strange it is! I think I have talked to you of it before, but it doesn’t matter, I like to repeat it, and you will like to hear it. When I saw you the first time——’
‘Why are there tears in your eyes?’ Insarov interrupted her.
‘Tears? Are there?’ She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. ‘Oh, what a silly boy! He doesn’t know yet that people weep from happiness. I wanted to tell you: when I saw you the first time, I saw nothing special in you, really. I remember, Shubin struck me much more at first, though I never loved him, and as for Andrei Petrovitch—oh, there was a moment when I thought: isn’t this he? And with you there was nothing of that sort; but afterwards—afterwards—you took my heart by storm!’