She was not with
me, but she was not very far away. Then Andrey Vassilievitch came back
to me. He told me that he knew that she had loved me--that he had
tried to speak of her to others who had known her, but they had, none
of them, had real knowledge of her. Might he speak to me sometimes
about her?
"I found that though he irritated me more than ever I liked to talk
about her to him. As I spoke of her he scarcely was present at all and
yet he had known her and loved her, and would listen for ever and ever
if I wished.
"When the war had lasted some months the fancy came to me that I could
get nearer to her by going into it. I might even die, which would be
best of all. I did not wish to kill myself because I felt that to be a
coward's death, and in such a way I thought that I would only separate
myself from her. But in the war, perhaps, I might meet death in such a
way as to show him that I despised him both for myself and her. By
suicide I would be paying him reverence.... Some such thought also had
Andrey Vassilievitch.
Pages:
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207