leave me, Sonia?” he said, looking at her almost with hope.
“No, no, never, nowhere!” cried Sonia. “I will follow you, I will follow you everywhere. Oh, my God! Oh, how miserable I am! … Why, why didn’t I know you before! Why didn’t you come before? Oh, dear!”
“Here I have come.”
“Yes, now! What’s to be done now? … Together, together!” she repeated as it were unconsciously, and she hugged him again. “I’ll follow you to Siberia!”
He recoiled at this, and the same hostile, almost haughty smile came to his lips.
“Perhaps I don’t want to go to Siberia yet, Sonia,” he said.
Sonia looked at him quickly.
Again after her first passionate, agonising sympathy for the unhappy man the terrible idea of the murder overwhelmed her. In his changed tone she seemed to hear the murderer speaking. She looked at him