'Ah, what a time we have had, Dmitri, what a cruel time! How can
people outlive those they love? I knew beforehand what Andrei
Petrovitch would say to me every day, I did really; my life seemed to
ebb and flow with yours. Welcome back, my Dmitri!'

He did not know what to say to her. He was longing to throw himself at
her feet.

'Another thing I observed,' she went on, pushing back his hair--'I
made so many observations all this time in my leisure--when any one is
very, very miserable, with what stupid attention he follows everything
that's going on about him! I really sometimes lost myself in gazing at
a fly, and all the while such chill and terror in my heart! But that's
all past, all past, isn't it? Everything's bright in the future, isn't
it?'

'You are for me in the future,' answered Insarov, 'so it is bright
for me.'

'And for me too! But do you remember, when I was here, not the last
time--no, not the last time,' she repeated with an involuntary
shudder, 'when we were talking, I spoke of death, I don't know why; I
never suspected then that it was keeping watch on us. But you are well
now, aren't you?'

'I'm much better, I'm nearly well.'

'You are well, you are not dead. Oh, how happy I am!'