She reproached
herself bitterly for those scornful words. The man had barely escaped
death, and she was merciless.
'Oh, please stay as long as you like,' she cried. 'I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to hurt you.'
He dragged himself with difficulty back to the chair, and she,
conscience-stricken, stood over him helplessly. She poured out a
glass of water, but he motioned it away as though he would not be
beholden to her even for that.
'Is there nothing I can do for you at all?' she exclaimed, painfully.
'Nothing, except allow me to sit in this chair,' he gasped.
'I hope you'll remain as long as you choose.'
He did not reply. She sat down again and pretended to read. In a little
while he began to speak. His voice reached her as if from a long way off.
'Will you never forgive me for what I did the other day?'
She answered without looking at him, her back still turned.
'Can it matter to you if I forgive or not?'
'You have not pity. I told you then how sorry I was that a sudden
uncontrollable pain drove me to do a thing which immediately I bitterly
regretted.
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