into tears.
"What is the matter? What is the matter with you?" Mariana exclaimed.
And as on the day when he had fallen on his knees before her, trembling
and breathless in a torrent of passion, she laid both her hands on his
trembling head. But what she felt now was quite different from what she
had felt then. Then she had given herself up to him--had submitted to
him and only waited to hear what he would say next, but now she pitied
him and only wondered what she could do to calm him.
"What is the matter with you?" she repeated. "Why are you crying? Not
because you came home in a somewhat... strange condition? It can't be!
Or are you sorry for Markelov--afraid for me, for yourself? Or is it for
our lost hopes? You did not really expect that everything would go off
smoothly!"
Nejdanov suddenly lifted his bead.
"It's not that, Mariana," he said, mastering his sobs by an effort, "I
am not afraid for either of us... but... I am sorry.
"For whom?"
"For you, Mariana! I am sorry that you should have united your fate with
a man who is not worthy of you."
"Why not?"
"If only because he can be crying at a moment as this!"
"It is not you but your nerves that are crying!"
"You can't separate me from my nerves! But listen, Mariana, look me in
the face; can you tell me now that you do not regret--"
"What?"
"That you ran away with me."
"No!"
"And would you go with me further? Anywhere?"
"Yes!"
"Really? Mariana... really?
"Yes. I have given you my word, and so long as you remain the man I
love--I shall not take it back."
Nejdanov remained sitting on the chair, Mariana standing before him. His
arms were about her waist, her's were resting on his shoulders.
"Yes, no," Nejdanov thought... "when I last held her in my arms like
this, her body was at least motionless, but now I can feel it--against
her will, perhaps--shrink away from me gently!"
He loosened his arms and Mariana did in fact move away from him a
little.
"If that's so," he said aloud, "if we must run away from here before the
police find us... I think it wouldn't be a bad thing if we were to get
married. We may not find another such accommodating priest as Father
Zosim!"
"I am quite ready," Mariana observed.
Nejdanov gave her a searching glance.
"A Roman maiden!" he exclaimed with a sarcastic half-smile. "What a
feeling of duty!"
Mariana shrugged her shoulders.
"We must tell Solomin."
"Yes... Solomin..." Nejdano
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