He was silent, looking down upon her. He began to realize the
helplessness of her plight. In a strange land, she found herself
without friends, and charged with the support of two children.
The money he had given her she had invested in a house, through
Rosenblatt, who insisted that payments were still due. No wonder
he had terrified her into submission to his plans.

While his contempt remained, her husband's rage grew less. After
a long silence he said, "Listen. This feast will last two days?"

"Yes, there is food and drink for two days."

"In two days my work here will be done. Then I go back. I must go
back. My children! my children! what of my children? My dead Olga's
children!" He began to pace the room. He forgot the woman on the
floor. "Oh, fatherland! My fatherland!" he cried in a voice broken
with passionate grief, "must I sacrifice these too for thee? God in
heaven! Father, mother, brother, home, wife, all I have given. Must
I give my children, too?" His strong dark face was working
fiercely. His voice came harsh and broken. "No, no! By all the
saints, no! I will keep my children for Olga's sake. I will let my
wretched country go. What matter to me? I will make a new home in
this free land and forget. Ah, God! Forget? I can never forget!
These plains!" He tore aside the quilt from the window and stooping
looked out upon the prairie. "These plains say Russia! This
gleaming snow, Russia! Ah! Ah! Ah! I cannot forget, while I live,
my people, my fatherland. I have suffered too much to forget. God
forget me, if I forget!" He fell on his knees before the window,
dry sobs shaking his powerful frame. He rose and began again
to stride up and down, his hands locked before him. Suddenly he