I began to laugh.
“You responded? And you were driving in the forest—you, my fiancee, my love, my dream! And all this for my sake? Tell me! Speak!”
In my rage I wrung her arms, and wriggling like a snake, vainly trying to evade my look, she whispered:
“Forgive me; forgive me.”
“How many children have you?”
“Forgive me.”
But my reason forsook me, and in my growing rage I cried, stamping my foot:
“How many children have you? Speak, or I will kill you!”
I actually said this. Evidently I was losing my reason completely if I could threaten to kill a helpless woman. And she, surmising apparently that my threats were mere words, answered with feigned readiness:
“Kill me! You have a right to do it! I am a criminal. I deceived you. You are a martyr, a saint! When you told me—is it true that even in your thoughts you never deceived me—even in your thoughts!”