“Yes, you, and nobody else but you, worse luck!” she screamed, almost stifled with tears of rage and of despair.
From him as from her the mask of comeliness and good manners had fallen. The wild untrammelled beast became increasingly evident in each.
Ideas like scurrying mice rushed through Sarudine’s mind. His first thought was to give Lida money, and persuade her to get rid of the child. He must break with her at once, and for ever. That would end the whole business. Yet though he considered this to be the best way, he said nothing.
“I really never thought that …” he stammered.
“You never thought!” exclaimed Lida wildly. “Why didn’t you? What right had you not to think?”
“But, Lida, I never told you that I …” he faltered, feeling afraid of what he was going to say, yet conscious that he would yet do so, all the same.
Lida, however, had understood, without waiting for him to speak. Her beautiful face grew dark, distorted by horror and despair. Her hands fell limply to her side as she sat down on the bed.
“What shall I do?” she said, as if thinking aloud. “Drown myself?”
“No, no! Don’t talk like that!”
Lida looked hard at him.