“ Chérie⁠ ⁠… chérie⁠ ⁠… ” he gasped.

“Don’t talk for a bit, Stepan Trofimovitch, wait a little till you’ve rested. Here’s some water. Do wait, will you!”

She sat down on the chair again. Stepan Trofimovitch held her hand tight. For a long while she would not allow him to speak. He raised her hand to his lips and fell to kissing it. She set her teeth and looked away into the corner of the room.

“ Je vous aimais ,” broke from him at last. She had never heard such words from him, uttered in such a voice.

“H’m!” she growled in response.

“ Je vous aimais toute ma vie⁠ ⁠… vingt ans! ”