The Torrents Of Spring

to say, which could compare, in importance, with the simple fact of their
presence there, together, alone, so early, so close to each other.
‘You … are not angry with me?’ Sanin articulated at last.
It would have been difficult for Sanin to have said anything more foolish
than these words … he was conscious of it himself… . But, at any
rate, the silence was broken.
‘Angry?’ she answered. ‘What for? No.’
‘And you believe me?’ he went on.
‘In what you wrote?’
‘Yes.’
Gemma’s head sank, and she said nothing. The parasol slipped out of
her hands. She hastily caught it before it dropped on the path.
‘Ah, believe me! believe what I wrote to you!’ cried Sanin; all his
timidity suddenly vanished, he spoke with heat; ‘if there is truth on earth
– sacred, absolute truth – it’s that I love, love you passionately, Gemma.’
She flung him a sideway, momentary glance, and again almost
dropped the parasol.
‘Believe me! believe me!’ he repeated. He besought her, held out his
hands to her, and did not dare to touch her. ‘What do you want me to
do … to convince you?’
She glanced at him again.
‘Tell me, Monsieur Dimitri,’ she began; ‘the day before yesterday,
when you came to talk to me, you did not, I imagine, know then … did
not feel … ’
‘I felt it,’ Sanin broke in; ‘but I did not know it. I have loved you from
the very instant I saw you; but I did not realise at once what you had become
to me! And besides, I heard that you were solemnly betrothed… .
As far as your mother’s request is concerned – in the first place, how
could I refuse? – and secondly, I think I carried out her request in such a
way that you could guess… .’
They heard a heavy tread, and a rather stout gentleman with a knapsack
over his shoulder, apparently a foreigner, emerged from behind the
clump, and staring, with the unceremoniousness of a tourist, at the
couple sitting on the garden-seat, gave a loud cough and went on.
‘Your mother,’ Sanin began, as soon as the sound of the heavy footsteps
had ceased, ‘told me your breaking off your engagement would
cause a scandal’ – Gemma frowned a little – that I was myself in part responsible
for unpleasant gossip, and that … consequently … I was, to
some extent, under an obligation to advise you not to break with your
betrothed, Herr Klüber… .’
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