Elena opened the door a little, listened, turned round to Insarov,
nodded her head, and glided out of the room.

For a minute Insarov stood before the closed door, and he too
listened. The door downstairs into the court slammed. He went up to
the sofa, sat down, and covered his eyes with his hands. Never before
had anything like this happened to him. 'What have I done to deserve
such love?' he thought. 'Is it a dream?'

But the delicate scent of mignonette left by Elena in his poor dark
little room told of her visit. And with it, it seemed that the air was
still full of the notes of a young voice, and the sound of a light
young tread, and the warmth and freshness of a young girlish body.




XXIV


Insarov decided to await more positive news, and began to make
preparations for departure. The difficulty was a serious one. For him
personally there were no obstacles. He had only to ask for a
passport--but how would it be with Elena? To get her a passport in
the legal way was impossible. Should he marry her secretly, and should
they then go and present themselves to the parents? . . . 'They
would let us go then,' he thought 'But if they did not? We would go
all the same. But suppose they were to make a complaint . . . if ...
No, better try to get a passport somehow.'