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 it. But he could not doubt that the principal cause of this was represented by that word son, which she could not pronounce.

When she thought of her son and his future relations to a mother who had deserted his father, the horror of what she had done appeared so great, that, like a real woman, she was not able to reason, but only endeavored to reassure herself by fallacious arguments, and persuade herself that all would go on as before; above all things, she must shut her eyes, and forget this terrible question, what would become of her son.

"I beg of you, I entreat you," she said suddenly, speaking in a very different tone, a tone of tenderness and sincerity, and seizing his hand, "don't ever speak to me of that again."

"But, Anna...."

"Never, never! Leave it to me. I know all the depth, all the horror, of my situation, but it is not so easy as you imagine to decide. Let me decide, and listen to me. Never speak to me again of that. Will you promise me? .... never, never? promise! ....

"I promise all; but I cannot be calm, especially after what you have told me. I cannot be calm when you cannot be calm." ....

"I?" she repeated. "Yes, I suffer torments sometimes, but that will pass if you will not say anything more about it. When you speak with me about this, then, and then only, it tortures me."

"I don't understand ...."

"I know," she interrupted, "how your honest nature abhors lying; I am sorry for you; and very often I think that you have sacrificed your life for me!"

"That is exactly what I say about you. I was just this moment thinking how you could sacrifice yourself for me! I cannot forgive myself for having made you unhappy."

"I unhappy?" said she, coming up close to him, and looking at him with a smile of enthusiastic love. "I? I am like a man dying of hunger, to whom food has been given. Maybe he is cold, and his raiment is