In the room it was quite still. Outside the window the slender boughs of a tree swayed gently, as if a bird had just perched thereon. Sarudine, endeavouring to check himself, approached Lida, and gently placed his arm round her waist. But she instantly broke away from him and in so doing struck him violently on the chin, so that his teeth rattled. “Devil take it!” he exclaimed angrily. It hurt him considerably, and the droll sound of his rattling teeth annoyed him even more. Lida had not heard this, yet instinctively she felt that Sarudine’s position was a ridiculous one, and with feminine cruelty she took advantage of it. “What words to use!” she said, imitating him. “It’s enough to make any one furious,” replied Sarudine peevishly. “If only I knew what was the matter!” “You mean to say that you still don’t know?” said Lida in a cutting tone. There was a pause. Lida looked hard at him, her face red as fire. Sarudine turned pale, as if suddenly covered by a grey veil. “Well, why are you silent? Why don’t you speak? Speak! Say something to comfort me!” she shrieked, her voice becoming hysterical in tone. The very sound of it alarmed her. “I …” began Sarudine, and his under-lip quivered. “Yes, you, and nobody else but you, worse luck!” she screamed, almost stifled with tears of rage and of despair. From him as from her the mask of comeliness and good manners had fallen. The wild untrammelled beast became increasingly evident in each. Ideas like scurrying mice rushed through Sarudine’s mind. His first thought was to give Lida money, and persuade her to get rid of the child. He must break with her at once, and for ever. That would end the whole business. Yet though he considered this to be the best way, he said nothing. “I really never thought that …” he stammered. “You never thought!” exclaimed Lida wildly. “Why didn’t you? What right had you not to think?” “But, Lida, I never told you that I …” he faltered, feeling afraid of what he was going to say, yet conscious that he would yet do so, all the same. Lida, however, had understood, without waiting for him to speak. Her beautiful face grew dark, distorted by horror and despair. Her hands fell limply to her side as she sat down on the bed. “What shall I do?” she said, as if thinking aloud. “Drown myself?” “No, no! Don’t talk like that!” Lida looked hard at him. “Do you know, Victor Sergejevitsch, I feel pretty sure that such a thing would not displease you,” she said. In her eyes and in her pretty quivering mouth there was something so sad, so pitiful, that Sarudine involuntarily turned away.