"'_Théodore!_' she went on, from time to time lifting her eyes and discreetly wringing her marvellously beautiful fingers with their rosy, polished nails. '_Théodore_, I have wronged you, deeply wronged you; I will say more, I have sinned; but hear me; I am tortured by remorse, I have grown hateful to myself, I could endure my position no longer; how many times have I thought of turning to you, but I feared your anger; I resolved to break every tie with the past.... _Puis, j'ai été si malade_.... I have been so ill,' she added, and passed her hand over her brow and cheek. 'I took advantage of the widely-spread rumour of my death, I gave up everything; without resting day or night I hastened hither; I hesitated long to appear before you, my judge ... _paraître devant vous, mon juge_; but I resolved at last, remembering your constant goodness, to come to you; I found your address at Moscow. Believe me,' she went on, slowly getting up from the floor and sitting on the very edge of an armchair. 'I have often thought of death, and I should have found courage to take my life ... ah! life is a burden unbearable for me now!... but the thought of my daughter, my little Ada, stopped me. She is here, she is asleep in the next room, the poor child! She is tired--you shall see her; she at least has done you no wrong, and I am so unhappy, so unhappy!' cried Madame Lavretsky, and she melted into tears.... "... 'I have no commands to give you,' replied Lavretsky in the same colourless voice; 'you know, all is over between us ... and now more than ever; you can live where you like; and if your allowance is too little----' "'Ah, don't say such dreadful things,' Varvara Pavlovna interrupted him, 'spare me, if only ... if only for the sake of this angel.' And as she uttered these words, Varvara Pavlovna ran impulsively into the next room, and returned at once with a small and very elegantly dressed little girl in her arms. Thick flaxen curls fell over her pretty rosy little face, and on to her large sleepy black eyes; she smiled, and blinked her eyes at the light and laid a chubby little hand on her mother's neck. "'Ada, _vois, c'est ton père_,' said Varvara Pavlovna, pushing the curls back from her eyes and kissing her vigorously, '_prie-le avec moi_.' "'_C'est ça, papa?_' stammered the little girl lisping. "'_Oui, mon enfant, n'est-ce pas que tu l'aimes?_' "But this was more than Lavretsky could stand. "'In what melodrama is there a scene exactly like this?' he muttered and went out of the room. "Varvara Pavlovna stood still for some time in the same place, slightly shrugged her shoulders, carried the little girl off into the next room, undressed her and put her to bed. Then she took up a book and sat down near the lamp, and after staying up for an hour she went to bed herself.