Two smart footmen ran up to the horse in the chaise, and most respectfully led it to the gate. Soon the villa opposite was lighted up, and the clatter of plates, knives, and forks was audible. The gentleman in the top hat was having his supper, and judging by the duration of the clatter of crockery, his supper lasted long. Liza fancied she could smell chicken soup and roast duck. After supper discordant sounds of the piano floated across from the villa. In all probability the gentleman in the top hat was trying to amuse the child in some way, and allowing it to strum on it.

Groholsky went up to Liza and put his arm round her waist.

“What wonderful weather!” he said. “What air! Do you feel it? I am very happy, Liza, very happy indeed. My happiness is so great that I am really afraid of its destruction. The greatest things are usually destroyed, and do you know, Liza, in spite of all my happiness, I am not absolutely⁠ ⁠… at peace.⁠ ⁠… One haunting thought torments me⁠ ⁠… it torments me horribly. It gives me no peace by day or by night.⁠ ⁠…”

“What thought?”

“An awful thought, my love. I am tortured by the thought of your husband. I have been silent hitherto. I have feared to trouble your inner peace, but I cannot go on being silent. Where is he? What has happened to him? What has become of him with his money? It is awful! Every night I see his face, exhausted, suffering, imploring.⁠ ⁠… Why, only think, my angel⁠—can the money he so generously accepted make up to him for you? He loved you very much, didn’t he?”

“Very much!”

“There you see! He has either taken to drink now, or⁠ ⁠… I am anxious about him! Ah, how anxious I am! Should we write to him, do you think? We ought to comfort him⁠ ⁠… a kind word, you know.”

Groholsky heaved a deep sigh, shook his head, and sank into an easy chair exhausted by painful reflection. Leaning his head on his fists he fell to musing. Judging from his face, his musings were painful.