All this little speech was delivered by Aratov in that ringing but unsteady
voice in which very young people answer at examinations on a subject in
which they are well prepared.... He was angry; he was furious.... It was
just this fury which loosened his ordinarily not very ready tongue.

She still went on along the walk with rather slower steps.... Aratov, as
before, walked after her, and as before saw only the old cape and the hat,
also not a very new one. His vanity suffered at the idea that she must now
be thinking: 'I had only to make a sign--and he rushed at once!'

Aratov was silent ... he expected her to answer him; but she did not utter
a word.

'I am ready to listen to you,' he began again, 'and shall be very glad if I
can be of use to you in any way ... though I am, I confess, surprised ...
considering the retired life I lead....'

At these last words of his, Clara suddenly turned to him, and he beheld
such a terrified, such a deeply-wounded face, with such large bright tears
in the eyes, such a pained expression about the parted lips, and this face
was so lovely, that he involuntarily faltered, and himself felt something
akin to terror and pity and softening.

'Ah, why ... why are you like that?' she said, with an irresistibly
genuine and truthful force, and how movingly her voice rang out! 'Could my
turning to you be offensive to you?... is it possible you have understood
nothing?... Ah, yes! you have understood nothing, you did not understand
what I said to you, God knows what you have been imagining about me, you
have not even dreamed what it cost me--to write to you!... You thought of
nothing but yourself, your own dignity, your peace of mind!... But is it