‘To go away?’
‘Yes.’
Irina continued to look away.
‘At the first moment, your intention struck me as premature ... but now I have thought over what you have said ... and if you are really not mistaken, then I suppose that you ought to go away. It will be better so ... better for us both.’
Irina’s voice had grown lower and lower, and her words too came more and more slowly.
‘General Ratmirov, certainly, might notice,’ Litvinov was beginning....
Irina’s eyes dropped again, and something strange quivered about her lips, quivered and died away.
‘No; you did not understand me,’ she interrupted him. ‘I was not thinking of my husband. Why should I? And there is nothing to notice. But I repeat, separation is necessary for us both.’
Litvinov picked up his hat, which had fallen on the ground.
‘Everything is over,’ he thought, ‘I must go. And so it only remains for me to say good-bye to you, Irina Pavlovna,’ he said aloud, and suddenly felt a pang, as though he were preparing to pronounce his own sentence on himself. ‘It only remains for me to hope that you will not remember evil against me, and ... and that if we ever——’