Never had he heard her voice so deep with sincerity and tenderness, and yet, as he surrendered to the touch of her soft hands, yielding up all his doubts, he was conscious of a new alarm creeping into his heart; and, dissatisfied with what he himself had a moment before implored, in the breath with which he whispered, "I believe you," he said to himself:
"Does she say that because she believes it or has she begun to lie?"
[a/]
II
For seven years they lived the same existence, separated sometimes for three months, occasionally for six, and once because of a trip taken to South America for nearly a year.
The first time that he joined her, after five months of longing, he remained a week without crying out the words that were heavy on his heart. One day she said to him:
"What is there—back of your eyes, hidden away, that you are stifling?"
"You know," he blurted out.
"What?"