"And then the thought came to me, 'What concern is it of yours whether he returns or not? Are you here in this place for his sake? Is not your happiness, your life, your all, lying here before you?' "I fell down by the bedside, and, covering Martha's hands with kisses, I implored her to have mercy--that I wanted to speak to her--that it was bursting my heart-strings--that it was stifling me--that I should suffocate. "But she did not wake. Doubled up with pain she lay there, a miserable little heap of bones. On her cheek-bones were little flaming spots. Her breath panted. Once she moved her lips as if to speak, but the words died away in a toneless gurgling. "What a terrible silence all around! The clock ticked, along the wall by the casement the wind passed softly moaning, and from the other room sounded the muffled tramp of the wanderer--all else still. "And suddenly it seemed to me as if in this stillness I heard the blood in my own body seething and boiling. I listened. Evidently that was my blood rushing wildly through my veins. "'Why is its flow not quiet and well-behaved,' I asked myself, 'in accordance with my great resolve? Is not this sin torn out with all its roots--burnt out by a thousand purifying fires? Do I not stand here as the priestess, void of desire, pure and blessed?' "And again I listened! These are hallucinations, I told myself, and yet I grew afraid at the gushing and rushing, which seemed to increase with every minute. I saw a stream which carried me away in its torrents--a stream of blood! A rock with sheer points jutted out from it. Thereon a word stood written with flaming letters, the word 'Bloodguiltiness.' "The footsteps grew louder. I jumped up.... He came, seated himself on the pillow, wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the flat of his hand, and passed his fingers through her hair. "Stealthily I watched him. I hardly dared to breathe any more. His eyes gleamed bloodshot in their sockets. His lips were pressed together in bitter reproach. He sat there as if petrified with unuttered pain. The desire to approach him shook me like a fit of ague. But when I was on the point of rising, it was as if two iron fists laid themselves upon my shoulders and forced me back on to my chair. "At length I spoke his name, and was startled, so strange, so weird did the sound of my own voice appear to me. He turned round and stared at me. "'Robert,' I said, 'why do you not speak to me? You will feel easier if you let some one else share what is oppressing you.' "Then he jumped up and grasped both my hands. His touch made me feel hot and cold all over. But I forced myself to keep my ground, and firmly looked into his face. "'That is the first good word that you have vouchsafed me, Olga.' he said. "'What do you mean by that, Robert?' I stammered. 'Have I been unkind towards you?'