“Leave me even hope! Do you hear me?”
“I cannot! I cannot!” answered Krysia.
Pan Michael went to the window and pressed his head against the cold glass. He stood a long time without motion; at last he turned, and advancing a couple of steps toward Krysia, he said in a very low voice,—
“Farewell! There is nothing for me here. Oh that it may be as pleasant for you as it is grievous for me! Know this, that I forgive you with my lips, and as God will grant, I will forgive you with my heart as well. But have more mercy on people’s suffering, and a second time promise not. It cannot be said that I take happiness with me from these thresholds! Farewell!”
When Pan Michael had said this, his mustaches quivered; he bowed, and went out. In the next room were Makovetski and his wife and Zagloba; t
