"A good, honest man!" she said to herself, walking up and down the room; but then the thought occurred to her that his visit was likely to spoil her intended trip to Bielany, and her enthusiasm began to cool. She determined she would speak to him briefly.
"I wonder what he wants of me?" Janina asked herself uneasily, assuming the most impossible things.
"My father must be very sick and wants me to come to him," she answered herself.
She stood in the center of the room almost dazed, with fear that she must return to Bukowiec.
"No, it is impossible! . . . I couldn't stand it there a single week . . . and moreover, he drove me away from home forever . . ."
A chaotic conflict between hate, sorrow, and a quiet, scarcely perceptible feeling of homesickness began to rage in Janina's heart.
The bell rang in the anteroom.
Janina sat down and waited quietly. She heard the door opening, the voices of Grzesikiewicz and Sowinska, and the sound of an overcoat being hung up.
"May I come in?" asked a voice outside.
"Please do," she whispered, choking with trepidation as she arose from her chair.