‘Yes,’ said Insarov, ‘but there, when we get there——’
‘Well?’ put in Elena, ‘and won’t it be glorious to die together too? but no, why should we die? We will live, we are young. How old are you? Twenty-six?’
‘Yes, twenty-six.’
‘And I am twenty. There is plenty of time before us. Ah, you tried to run away from me? You did not want a Russian’s love, you Bulgarian! Let me see you trying to escape from me now! What would have become of us, if I hadn’t come to you then!’
‘Elena, you know what forced me to go away.’
‘I know; you were in love, and you were afraid. But surely you must have suspected that you were loved?’
‘I swear on my honour, Elena, I didn’t.’
She gave him a quick unexpected kiss. ‘There, I love you for that too. And goodbye.’
‘You can’t stop longer?’ asked Insarov.
‘No, dearest. Do you think it’s easy for me to get out alone? The quarter of an hour was over long ago.’ She put on her cape and hat. ‘And you come to us to-morrow evening. No, the day after to-morrow. We shall be constrained and dreary, but we can’t help that; at least we shall see each other. Good-bye. Let me go.’