-morning," he said, gravely taking off his hat and inclining his head
a little. He acted as though quite unconscious of what had happened on the
previous day, and they watched him as he quietly went into the room
beyond, into which the Cossack had retired on seeing him enter.

He hung up his hat in its usual place, nodding to Schmidt, who was
opposite to him. Then, as he turned, he met Vjera's eyes. It was a supreme
moment for her, poor child. Would he remember anything of what had passed
on the previous day? Or had he forgotten all, his debt, her saving of him
and the sacrifice she had made? He looked at her so long and so steadily
that she grew frightened. Then all at once he came close to her, and took
her hand and kissed it as he had done when they had last parted, careless
of Schmidt's presence.

"I have not forgotten, dear Vjera," he whispered in her ear.

Schmidt passed them quickly and again went out, whether from a sense of
delicacy, or because he saw an opportunity of renewing the fight outside,
is not certain. He closed the door of communication behind him.

Vjera looked up into the Count's eyes and the blush that rarely came, the
blush of true happiness, mounted to her face.

"I have not forgotten, dearest," he said again. "There is a veil over
yesterday--I think I must have been ill--but I know what you did for me
and--and--" he hesitated as though seeking an expression.

For a few seconds again the poor girl felt the agony of suspense she knew
so well.

"I do not know what right a man so poor as I has to say such a thing,
Vjera," he continued. "But I love you, dear, and if you will take me, I
will love you all my life, more and more. Will it be harder to be poor
together than each for ourselves, alone?"

Vjera let her head fall upon his shoulder, happy at last. What did his
madness matter now, since the one memory she craved had survived its
destroying influence? He had forgotten his glorious hopes, his imaginary
wealth, his expected friends, but he had not forgotten her, nor his love
for her.

"Thank God!" she sighed, and the happy tears fell from her eyes upon the
breast of his threadbare coat.

"But we must not forget to work, dear," she said, a few moments later.

"No," he answered. "We must not forget to work."

As she sat down to her table he pushed her chair back for her, and put
into her hands her little glass tube, and then he went and took his own
place opposite. For a long time they