lodgings--how indignant I should have been! And that has all come
about, and I feel no indignation whatever. Really!' she added, and
turned to Insarov.

He looked at her with such an expression of adoration, that she softly
dropped her hand from his hair over his eyes.

'Dmitri!' she began again, 'you don't know of course, I saw you
there in that dreadful bed, I saw you in the clutches of death,
unconscious.'

'You saw me?'

'Yes.'

He was silent for a little. 'And Bersenyev was here?'

She nodded.

Insarov bowed down before her. 'O Elena!' he whispered, 'I don't
dare to look at you.'

'Why? Andrei Petrovitch is so good. I was not ashamed before him. And
what have I to be ashamed of? I am ready to tell all the world that I
am yours. . . . And Andrei Petrovitch I trust like a brother.'

'He saved me!' cried Insarov. 'He is the noblest, kindest of men!'

'Yes . .. And do you know I owe everything to him? Do you know that
it was he who first told me that you loved me? And if I could tell