“And now I want some clothes. I dare not go out in this dress and buy civilized garments. One of you must do it for me.” He laid money on the table and made a note of his sizes. “And now I’m going to sleep.”
With that he stretched himself upon the couch, the revolver of the wary Nicolai upon him. Not again would they be caught off their guard and tricked! For a time his mind was filled with painful fears for Sonya; but his weariness was overpowering, and soon he slipped off into deep slumber.
It seemed to him that scarce fifteen minutes had passed when hushed voices from far, far above vaguely penetrated his sleep. He seemed to float slowly up out of bottomless depths to consciousness. One voice now sounded like a woman’s voice. That a woman should be here seemed curious. He opened his eyes.
The next instant he was on his feet.
“Sonya!” he cried.
CHAPTER XVI
THE WHITE ONE
SHE rose and crossed to him; and Ivan and Nicolai slipped out. She was dressed as he had seen her in this same room a week before—in the coarse, quilted jacket and head-swathing shawl of a factory girl.
Their hands gripped. He had never known before what the grip of a hand could be. Nor how glowing a pair of blue eyes.
“I thought you were sick!” he cried.
“Only a pretense,” she smiled.