Then she took one of the photographs, and showed Pan Stanislav the birches painted in water-colors; but since she was a little near-sighted, she bent over her work, so that her temple for one moment was near Pan Stanislav's face. She was no longer that Marynia of whom he had dreamed when returning evenings from Pani Emilia's, and who at that time had filled his whole soul for him. That period had passed: his thoughts had gone in another direction; but Marynia had not ceased to be that type of woman which produced on his masculine nerves an impression exceptionally vivid; and now, when her temple almost touched his own, when, with one glance of the eye, he took in her face, her cheeks slightly colored, and her form bent over the picture, he felt the old attraction with its former intensity, and the quick blood sent equally quick thoughts to his brain. "Were I to kiss her eyes and mouth now," thought he, "I am curious to know what she would do;" and in a twinkle the desire seized him to do so, even were he to offend Marynia mortally. In return for long rejection, for so much fear and suffering, he would like such a moment of recompense, and of revenge, perhaps, with it. Meanwhile, Marynia, while examining the painting, continued,-- "This seems worse to-day than yesterday; unfortunately trees have no leaves now, and I cannot find a model." "The group is not bad at all," said Pan Stanislav; "but if these trees are to represent Pani Emilia, Litka, and me, why have you painted four birches?" "The fourth represents me," said Marynia, with a certain timidity; "I, too, have a wish sometimes to grow with you." Pan Stanislav looked at her quickly; and she, wrapping the photographs up again, said, as it were, hurriedly,-- "So many things are connected in my mind with the memory of that child. During her last days I was with her and Emilia almost continually. At present Emilia is one of the nearest persons on earth to me. I belong to them as well as you do; I know not clearly how to explain this. There were four of us, and now there are three, bound together by Litka, for she bound us. When I think of her now, I think also of Emilia and of you. This is why I decided to paint the four birches; and you see there are three photographs,--one for Emilia, one for me, and one for you." "I thank you," said Pan Stanislav, extending his hand to her. Marynia returned the pressure very cordially, and said,-- "For the sake of her memory, too, we should forget all our former resentments." "This has happened already," answered Pan Stanislav; "and as for me, I wish that it had happened long before Litka's death." "My fault began then; for this I beg forgiveness," and she extended her hand to him. Pan Stanislav hesitated awhile whether to raise it to his lips; but he did not raise it, he only said,-- "Now there is agreement." "And friendship?" asked Marynia. "And friendship."