“Oh! stop it, do!” he shouted. Then he walked across the room, nervously pulling his moustache, and his lips quivered.
In the room it was quite still. Outside the window the slender boughs of a tree swayed gently, as if a bird had just perched thereon. Sarudine, endeavouring to check himself, approached Lida, and gently placed his arm round her waist. But she instantly broke away from him and in so doing struck him violently on the chin, so that his teeth rattled.
“Devil take it!” he exclaimed angrily. It hurt him considerably, and the droll sound of his rattling teeth annoyed him even more. Lida had not heard this, yet instinctively she felt that Sarudine’s position was a ridiculous one, and with feminine cruelty she took advantage of it.
“What words to use!” she said, imitating him.
“It’s enough to make any one furious,” replied Sarudine peevishly.
“If only I knew what was the matter!”
“You mean to say that you still don’t know?” said Lida in a cutting tone.
There was a pause. Lida looked hard at him, her face red as fire. Sarudine turned pale, as if suddenly covered by a grey veil.
“Well, why are you silent? Why don’t you speak? Speak! Say something to comfort me!” she shrieked, her voice becoming hysterical in tone. The very sound of it alarmed her.
“I …” began Sarudine, and his under-lip quivered.