“He’s not hurt either.”
“That’s a good thing.”
There was a pause; and then she asked:
“Why did you do it? It was not right.”
“I lost my head, when he spoke to me last night, and I yielded to an irresistible impulse of hatred. I did not know what I was doing.”
“But your mother?”
“I have managed to hide the truth from her so far. One of my seconds said that he would tell her.”
“Go to her, run as fast as you can.... She will be so anxious until she sees you.... Go at once....”
“No.”
He was so firm that she despaired of persuading him. And yet she wanted him to go. Then she looked at him and smiled: