"Don't cry any more," he said, very low.
"Ah, if tears could only wash out the past," she sighed.
"Good-bye, Anna," he said, rising.
"Don't go away." And she took his hand. "I haven't said anything to you yet. I haven't explained. You are going away angry with me. But you are right. The sooner it is finished the better. To-day I have no strength. I irritate you. Women who make scenes are always tiresome. But you ought to know, you ought. I will write to you—I will write everything. You permit me to, don't you? Say that you permit me. I can't live unless you let me write and tell you everything."
"Write," he said, softly.
"And you forgive me?"
"I have nothing to forgive. Write. Good-bye, Anna."
She sat down. Dias went away. Laura and Stella came into the room.
"Well, is the marriage arranged?" asked Stella, not noticing Anna's red eyes and pale cheeks.