"Andrew!" she called after him forcibly.
Grzesikiewicz turned back from the door.
"Andrew," she said in a pleading voice, "I do not love you, but I respect you. . . . I cannot marry you, I cannot . . . but I will always think of you as of a noble man. Surely you will understand that it would be a base thing for me to marry a man whom I do not love . . . I know that you detest falsehood and hypocrisy and so do I. Forgive me for hurting you, but I also suffer . . . I also am not happy oh no!"
"Janina if you would only . . . if you would only . . ."
She regarded him with such a sorrowful expression that he became silent. Then slowly he left the room.
Janina still sat there dazed, staring at the door through which he had gone, when Orlowski entered the room.
He had met Grzesikiewicz on the stairs and in his face had read what had happened.
Janina uttered a little cry of fear, so great a change had come over him. His face was ashen-gray, his eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets, his head swayed violently from side to side.
He seated himself near the table and with a quiet, smothered voice asked, "What did you tell Grzesikiewicz?"
"What I told you yesterday; that I do not love him and will not marry him!" she answered boldly, but she was startled at the seeming calm with which her father spoke.