Do you wish to be the father?"
She stood up, looking intently into Polunin's eyes.
"What are you saying, Kseniya?" he asked in a low, grave, pained
tone.
"I have told you what I want. Give me a child and then go--anywhere--
back to your Alena! I have not forgotten that June and July."
"I cannot," Polunin replied firmly; "I love Alena."
"I do not want love," she persisted; "I have no need of it. Indeed I
have not, for I do not even love you!" She spoke in a low, faint
voice, and passed her hand over her face.
"I must go," the man said at last.
She looked at him sharply. "Where to?"
"How do you mean 'where to'? I must go away altogether!"
"Ah, those tragedies, duties, and sins again!" she cried, her eyes
burning into his with hatred and contempt. "Isn't it all perfectly
simple? Didn't you make a contract with me?"
"I have never made one without love. And I love only Alena. I must
go."
"Oh, what cruel, ascetical egoism!" she cried violently. Then
suddenly all her rage died down, and she sat quietly in the chair,
covering her face with her hands.
Polunin stood by, his shoulders bowed, his arms hanging limply. His
face betrayed grief and anxiety.
Kseniya looked up at him with a wan smile: "It is all right--there is
no need to go... It was only my nonsense.... I was merely venting my
anger...
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