shall break down altogether. Before twelve she cannot possibly
come.'

The door was opened, and in a light silk gown, all pale, all fresh,
young and joyful, Elena came in, and with a faint cry of delight she
fell on his breast.

'You are alive, you are mine,' she repeated, embracing and stroking
his head. He was almost swooning, breathless at such closeness,
such caresses, such bliss.

She sat down near him, holding him fast, and began to gaze at him with
that smiling, and caressing, and tender look, only to be seen shining
in the eyes of a loving woman.

Her face suddenly clouded over.

'How thin you have grown, my poor Dmitri,' she said, passing her hand
over his neck; 'what a beard you have.'

'And you have grown thin, my poor Elena,' he answered, catching her
fingers with his lips.

She shook her curls gaily.

'That's nothing. You shall see how soon we'll be strong again! The
storm has blown over, just as it blew over and passed away that day
when we met in the chapel. Now we are going to live.'

He answered her with a smile only.