'Is it?

'Absolutely settled,' replied Insarov, getting up and going away.

Bersenyev walked about the room, then took his hat and set off for the
Stahovs.

'You have something to tell me,' Elena said to him, directly they were
left alone.

'Yes, how did you guess?'

'Never mind; tell me what it is.'

Bersenyev told her of Insarov's intention.

Elena turned white.

'What does it mean?' she articulated with effort

'You know,' observed Bersenyev, 'Dmitri Nikanorovitch does not care to
give reasons for his actions. But I think ... let us sit down, Elena
Nikolaevna, you don't seem very well. ... I fancy I can guess what is
the real cause of this sudden departure.'

'What--what cause?' repeated Elena, and unconsciously she gripped
tightly Bersenyev's hand in her chill ringers.

'You see,' began Bersenyev, with a pathetic smile, 'how can I explain
to you? I must go back to last spring, to the time when I began to be