dependence. I know that we human beings will always be frail, poor,
lonely; but a time will surely come when we shall pass through the
purifying flame of a great conflagration; then a new earth and a new
heaven shall open up to us; through union we shall attain our final
freedom. I know I am saying all this badly, incoherently--I cannot say
clearly what I feel--but let us, please, say no more."

Elisaveta strode out of the summer-house. Piotr slowly followed her.
His face was sad and his eyes shone feverishly, but he could not utter
a word--inertia gripped his mind. Quite suddenly he roused himself,
raised his head, smiled, overtook Elisaveta.

"You love me, Elisaveta," he said with joyous assurance. "You love me,
though you won't admit it. You are not speaking the truth when you say
that you don't understand my love. You do know my love, you do believe
in it--tell me, is it possible to love so strongly and not be loved in
return?"

Elisaveta stopped. Her eyes lit up with a strange joy.

"I tell you once more," she said with calm resolution, "it is not me
you love--you love the First Bride. I am going where I must."

Piotr stood there and looked after her--helpless, pale, dejected.
Between the bushes a sun-yellow dress fluttered against the now dull
sky of a setting sun.