philosophical systems: they have all changed and are still changing--
only one law remains unaltered, that all living things--whether men,
mice, or rye--are born, breed, and die.

"I was packing up for Nice, where a lover expected me, when suddenly
I felt an overwhelming desire for a babe, a dear, sweet, little babe
of my own, and I remembered you .... Then I travelled here, to Russia
so as to bear it in reverence.... I am able to do so now!..."

Polunin rose and stood close to Kseniya Ippolytovna: his expression
was serious and alarmed.

"Don't beat me," she murmured.

"You are innocent, Kseniya," he replied.

"Oh, there you go again!" she cried impatiently. "Always sin and
innocence! I am a stupid woman, full of beliefs and superstitions--
nothing more--like all women. I want to conceive here, to breed and
bear a child here. Do you wish to be the father?"

She stood up, looking intently into Polunin's eyes.

"What are you saying, Kseniya?" he asked in a low, grave, pained
tone.

"I have told you what I want. Give me a child and then go--anywhere--
back to your Alena! I have not forgotten that June and July."

"I cannot," Polunin replied firmly; "I love Alena."