“I am not sure,” he began, “that I ought to have come here to see you, for you may think that I have treated you very badly. But I could not stay away. I wanted to explain things, so that you might not utterly hate and loathe me. After all … what else could I do? How was I to resist? There came a moment when I felt that the last barrier between us had fallen, and that, if I missed this moment of my life, it would never again be mine. You’re so beautiful, so young …”
Sina was mute. Her soft, transparent ear, half-hidden by her hair, became rosy, and her long eyelashes quivered.
“You’re miserable, now, and yesterday, how beautiful it all was,” he said. “Sorrows only exist because man has set a price upon his own happiness. If our way of living were different, last night would remain in our memory as one of life’s most beautiful and precious experiences.”
“Yes, if …” she said mechanically. Then, all at once, much to her own surprise, she smiled. And as sunrise, and the song of birds, and the sound of whispering reeds, so this smile seemed to cheer her spirit. Yet it was but for a moment.
All at once she saw her whole future life before her, a broken life of sorrow and shame. The prospect was so horrible that it roused hatred.
“Go away! Leave me!” she said sharply. Her teeth were clenched and her face wore a hard, vindictive expression as she rose to her feet.
Sanine pitied her. For a moment he was moved to offer her his name and his protection, yet something held him back. He felt that such amends would be too mean.
“Ah! well,” he thought, “life must just take its course.”
“I know that you are in love with Yourii Svarogitsch,” he began. “Perhaps it is that which grieves you most?”
“I am in love with no one,” murmured Sina, clasping her hands convulsively.