"Do you understand? I strangled him; do you believe it?"
"Sh!" cried Olympiada, in an anxious muffled voice. "What are you saying?"
She embraced him closely, and looked into his face with troubled eyes.
"Let me go! it—it happened all of a sudden—God knows I didn't mean to do it. I only wanted to see his hateful face again, that's why I went into the shop. I had no intention,—and then it came in a moment, the devil urged me and God did not hold me back. I shouldn't have taken the money, that was silly, ah!"
He sighed deeply, and the hard rind of his heart seemed to loosen. Olympiada was quivering at his story, she held him even closer and whispered brokenly, disconnectedly. Presently she said: "It was a good thing you took the money, they'll think now it was for robbery, and not for jealousy; that would be worse for us."
"I don't feel sorry," said Ilya thoughtfully. "I won't repent. God may punish me! Men are not my judges; what sort of judges would they be! I know no men without sin, not one. I'll wait."
"O God," stammered Olympiada. "What is it? What will happen? Dear, I'm quite stupid. I can't think clearly—but let's go away from here—it's time."
She stood up and swayed like a drunken woman. But when she had fastened her veil, she said of a sudden, quite calmly:
"What's going to happen, Ilya? Will it go hard——?"
Ilya shook his head.