Quietly, with the expression of a stone on which life has engraved one last commandment, grim and new, he answered:
»I do not wish to be fine.«
She still waited, not daring to believe, suddenly shrinking from what she had so much sought and yearned for. She knelt down. He smiled gently, and in the same new and impressive manner stood over her and placed his hand on her head and repeated:
»I do not want to be fine.«
The woman busied herself swiftly in her joy. She undressed him like a child, unlaced his boots, fumbling at the knots, stroked his head, his knees, and never so much as smiled—so full was her heart. Then she looked up into his face and was afraid.
»How pale you are! Drink something now—at once! Are you feeling ill, Peter?«
»My name is Alexis.«
»Never mind that. Here, let me give you some in a glass. Well, take care then; don't choke yourself! If you're not used to it, it's not so easy as out of a glass.«
She opened her mouth, seeing him drink with slow, sceptical gulps. He coughed.
»Never mind! You'll be a good drinker, I can see that! Oh, how happy I am!«