"Go to meet him, Kolia; I do not wish him to think we did not expect him."
Kolia went, did, like a machine, whatever was required of him. Natalie sat up, listened--listened. If she had been mistaken--no. Heavy steps came up the stairs. Steps of two men--not of one--and this voice! rough, deep, going to the heart. She did not understand a word; but it was his voice.
A quite numbing embarrassment and shyness overcame her. She drew the lace cuffs of her night-dress over her thin arms, she arranged her hair; she felt as shy as before a stranger. What should she say to him? She would be quite calm--calm and friendly. Then the door opened--he entered, dusty, with tumbled, badly arranged gray hair, with fearful furrows in his face, aged ten years since she last had seen him.
What should she say to him?
He did not wait for that; he only gave one look at her pale face, then he hurried up to her and took her in his arms.
Behind the church of Trinità dei Monti there was already a golden light, and the whole room was filled with brilliancy and light.
"Oh, my angel! how could you so repulse me!" are the first words which he speaks.
She says nothing, only lies on his breast, silently, unresistingly. Through her veins creeps for the last time the feeling of pleasant, animating warmth which has always overcome her in his nearness. She tries to rouse herself, to consider; she had certainly wished to tell him something for farewell. But what was it--what----
Ah, truly!
"Boris," she breathes out softly, "do you know--at that time in your study--in Petersburg--do you still remember how you once said to me I should show you the way to the stars?"