He got up.
‘Then leave me! You see, Elena, when I was taken ill, I did not lose consciousness at first; I knew I was on the edge of the abyss; even in the fever, in delirium I knew, I felt vaguely that it was death coming to me, I took leave of life, of you, of everything; I gave up hope.... And this return to life so suddenly; this light after the darkness, you—you—near me, with me—your voice, your breath.... It’s more than I can stand! I feel I love you passionately, I hear you call yourself mine, I cannot answer for myself... You must go!’
‘Dmitri,’ whispered Elena, and she nestled her head on his shoulder. Only now she understood him.
‘Elena,’ he went on, ‘I love you, you know that; I am ready to give my life for you.... Why have you come to me now, when I am weak, when I can’t control myself, when all my blood’s on fire... you are mine, you say... you love me——’
‘Dmitri,’ she repeated; she flushed all over, and pressed still closer to him.
‘Elena, have pity on me; go away, I feel as if I should die.... I can’t stand these violent emotions... my whole soul yearns for you ... think, death was almost parting us.. and now you are here, you are in my arms... Elena——’
She was trembling all over. ‘Take me, then,’ she whispered scarcely above her breath.
XXIX
Nikolai Artemyevitch was walking up and down in his study with a scowl on his face. Shubin was sitting at the window with his legs crossed, tranquilly smoking a cigar.