violent was the paroxysm of fury that had seized him, and with the
broken arm of the chair in his hand, he sprang at Janina to strike
her, but the cold, almost scornful, expression of her face brought
him to his senses.

"Get out of here!" he roared, pointing to the door, "get out! . . .
Do you hear? I turn you out of my home forever! . . . You will never
again pass this threshold while I live, for I will kill you like a
mad dog and throw you out of the door! . . . I have no longer any
daughter!"

"Very well, I will go . . ." she answered mechanically.

"I no longer have any daughter! Henceforth I don't want to know you
or hear anything of you! . . . Go and perish . . . I will kill
you! . . ." he shouted, rushing up and down the room like a madman.

His insane violence now burst out in full force. He rushed out of
the house and from the window Janina saw him running toward the
woods.

She sat silent, dumb, and as though turned to ice. She had expected
everything, but never this. She burned with resentment but not a
single tear clouded her eye. She gazed about her distractedly, for
that hoarse cry still rang in her ears: "Get out of here! . . . get
out!"

"I will go, I will go . . ." she whispered in a humble and broken
voice through the tears that filled her heart, "I will go. . . ."

"God, my God! why am I so unhappy?" she cried after a while.

Krenska, who had heard all, approached her. With feigned tears in
her eyes she began to comfort her, but Janina gently pushed her
away. It was not that which she needed; not that kind of comforting.

"My father has driven me out . . . I must leave . . ." she said,
marveling at her own words.

"But that is preposterous! . . . Surely your father can be
placated. . . ."

"No . . . I will not stay here any longer. I have enough of this
torment . . . enough . . . ."

"Are you going to your aunt's house?"

Janina was sunk in thought for a moment, but suddenly her gloomy
face brightened with a flash of determination.

"I will go and join the theater. The die is cast! . . ."

Krenska glanced at her sharply.

"Come, help me pack my trunk. I will leave on the next train."

"The next passenger train does not go to Kielce."

"It doesn't matter. I will go to Strzemieszyce, and from there, by
the Viennese line to Warsaw. . . ."

"If I were you, Janina, I'd think it over. . . . Later you may
regret it. . . ."

"What's done can't be undone! . . ."

And without pay