"Neither to your house nor to any other. I am not angry. You have been very kind to me, and I shall never forget it."
"Well then...." The woman did not know what to make of the girl's words.
Nacha was silent while she smoothed her hair, and straightened her dress. Then she kissed the cripple, took both her hands and said, her lips quivering with pain:
"It's because ... I want to be worthy ... of that man's love...."
"Oh, I see. You want to be respectable for awhile, and then get married...."
The cripple spoke with the certainty of a woman who understands what she is talking about. Nacha's expression, however, indicated that her purpose was not quite as the cripple supposed.
"What is it then? Tell me. You know I like you, child, and respect you. And I'd do for you anything you ask. If you want to live decent, and need money, I'll give it to you—I'll save so I can!"
Nacha was touched.
"You are good, señora. I thank you from my very heart; and because I know how good you are, I'll tell you. No, I'm not going to get married. I couldn't let him marry me. But he loves me—so much! And if he gives me such great love, I want to be decent. Not to get married, no, just to be worthy of living in his thoughts, and in his heart...."
The paralytic drew the girl's head down to her twisted old lips and kissed her. Freeing herself from the woman's embrace, Nacha hastily left the room.