Around them, only darkness; the moist odour of the river and the reeds; an atmosphere now hot, now cold; profound silence. Suddenly, unaccountably, she lost all power of volition and of thought; her limbs relaxed, and she surrendered to another’s will.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Recovering herself at last, she perceived the bright image of the moon in the dark water, and Sanine’s face bending over her with glittering eyes. She felt that his arms were wound tightly round her, and that one of the oars was chafing her knee.
Then she began to weep gently, persistently, without freeing herself from Sanine’s embrace.
Her tears were for that which was irretrievable. Fear and pity for herself, and fondness for him made her weep. Sanine lifted her up and set her on his knee. She meekly submitted like some sorrowful child. As in a dream she could hear him gently comforting her in a tender, grateful voice.
“I shall drown myself.” The thought seemed an answer to a third person’s stern question, “What have you done, and what will you do now?”
“What shall I do now?” she asked aloud.
“We will see,” replied Sanine.
She tried to slip off his knees, but he held her fast, so she remained there, thinking it strange that she could feel for him neither hatred nor disgust.
“It doesn’t matter what happens, now,” she said to herself, yet a secret physical curiosity prompted her to wonder what this strong man, a stranger, and yet so close a friend, would do with her.