Elisaveta flushed. Her eyes gave a sudden flare, then grew dull. She rose from her seat and spoke in an agitated manner: “Piotr, why do you again torment yourself and me needlessly? We have been so intimate from childhood--yet it seems that we must part! Our ways are different, we think differently, and believe differently.” Piotr listened to her with an expression of intense impatience and vexation. Elisaveta wished to continue, but he interrupted: “Ah, but what’s the good of saying that? Elisaveta, do, I beg you, forget our differences. They are so petty! Or let us admit that they are significant. What I wish to say is that politics and all that separates us is only a light scum, a momentary froth on the broad surface of our life. In love there is revelation, there is eternal truth. He who does not love, he who does not strive towards union with a beloved, he is dead.” “I love the people, I love freedom,” said Elisaveta quietly. “My love is revolt.” Piotr, ignoring her words, went on: “You know that I love you. I have loved you a long time. My whole soul is absorbed as with light with my love for you. I am jealous--and I’m not ashamed to tell you I am jealous of your favour to any one; I am even jealous of this bloused workman, whose accomplice you would be if he had had the sufficient boldness and the brain to be a conspirator; I am jealous of the half-truths which have captivated you and screen your love of me.” Again Elisaveta spoke quietly: “You reproach me for what is dear to me, for my better part, you wish that I should become different. You do not love me, you are tempted by the beautiful Beast--my young body with its smiles and its caresses....” And again ignoring what she said, Piotr asserted passionately: “Elisaveta, dearest, love me! You surely do not love any one else! Isn’t that so? You do not love any one? You have had no time to fall in love, to fetter your soul to any one else’s. You are as free as man’s first bride, you are as superb as his last wife. You have grown ripe for love--for my love--you too are thirsty for kisses and embraces, even as I. O Elisaveta, love me, love me!” “How can I?” said Elisaveta. “Elisaveta, if you’d only will it!” exclaimed Piotr. “One must wish to love. If you only understood how I love you, you would love me also. My love should fire in you a responsive love.” “My friend, you do not love anything that is mine,” answered Elisaveta. “You do not love me. I don’t believe you--forgive me--I don’t understand your love.” Piotr frowned gloomily and said gruffly: “You have been fascinated by that false, empty word freedom. You have never thought over its true meaning.”