"If by that time you still wish it—yes, I will kill him."
They looked into one another's eyes, adding no further word. A heavy clap of thunder broke and rolled overhead.
"You had better go in now," said Vassilitch.
He left her at the doors of the French windows, while he lighted a cigar and went again into the garden. Suddenly he turned. He perceived that she was yet standing, gazing after him. He could see her in the aureole of light, though she could not see him in the outer gloom.
"How beautiful she is!" muttered Vassilitch.
He flung down his cigar, put his foot upon it, and ground it into the earth.
II.
"Expensive? Rather. You cannot get diggings in Regent Street for a song." Tweed rose, threw up the window, sat down again, and added, "Especially over a jeweller's shop. They are so careful. There is nothing but a plank, my dear Boris, between us and thousands of pounds' worth of glittering things."
"It is very nice here," said Boris Stefanovitch, looking across to the Quadrant with wistful, melancholy eyes.
"'Twill serve. They are not bad for bachelors' quarters. My only fear is that one day I may get my head into the matrimonial noose. Do not laugh; it is too serious. There are many who feel in the same way. We are determined not to marry. We build a hedge, and dig a trench, and raise a tower; but—but——" Tweed shrugged his shoulders. "Halloa, it is beginning to snow," he added, abruptly. "Do you feel cold? I will close the window."