“So you know about Vanya?” she said calmly.
Palla nodded.
“You don’t know all. Marya called me on the telephone a few minutes ago to tell me.”
“Vanya is dead,” whispered Palla.
“Yes. They found an unmailed letter directed to Marya in his pockets. That’s why they notified her.”
After an interval: “So Vanya is dead,” repeated Palla under her breath.
Ilse sat plaiting the black edges of her handkerchief.
“It’s such a––a senseless interruption––death–––” she murmured. “It seems so wanton, so meaningless in the scheme of things ... to make two people wait so long––so long!––to resume where they had been interrupted–––”
Palla asked coldly whether Marya had seemed greatly shocked.
“I don’t know, Palla. She called me up and told me. I asked her if there was anything I could do; and she answered rather strangely that what remained for her to do she would do alone. I don’t know what she meant.”