There are some things I wish to show you there. Will that be
as you wish?"
"I have no wishes, it is as you please," Tamara answered monotonously.
He gave an impatient shrug, and walked up and down the room, his will
kept its mastery, but it was a tremendous strain. Her words had stung
him, her intense quiet and absence of emotion had produced a faint
doubt. What if after all he should never be able to make her love him.
For the first time in his life a hand of ice clutched his heart. He
knew in those moments of agony that she meant the whole world to him.
He glanced at her slender graceful figure so listlessly leaning against
the blue cushions, at her pale ethereal face, and then he turned
abruptly away toward the door to the other salon.
"Come," he said, "it is of no avail to talk further, we will say
goodnight." Tamara rose. The way to her room led from the opposite
side.
"Goodnight then," she said, "make my adieu to Sonia and the rest. I
shall go to bed," and she walked that way. The whole floor was between
them, as she looked back. He stood rigid by the other door.
Then with great strides he was beside her, and
had taken her in his arms.
"Ah! God!" he said, as he fiercely kissed her, and then almost flung
her from him, and strode from the room.
And Tamara went on to her own, trembling with excitement.
This was passion truly, but what if some love lurked underneath?--and
when she reached her great white bed she fell upon her knees, and
burying her face in her hands she prayed to God.
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