Page:More Tales from Tolstoi.djvu/239

 "Well, if we must go, it's high time," she said, looking at her watch, a gift from her father, and smiling at her young man with a scarcely noticeable significant look, which he alone understood, and she stood up rustling her dress.

Then they all stood up, said good-bye, and went away.

When they had gone out, Ivan Il'ich felt a little easier; the lie was no longer there, it had gone out with them, but the pain remained. The same continual pain, the same continual terror had this effect, that nothing was heavier, nothing was lighter, everything was for the worst

Again, minute after minute, hour after hour, passed by; it was the same thing over and over again, and there was no end to it, and more terrible than all was the inevitable end.

"Yes, send Gerasim here," he replied to a question from Peter.

Late at night his wife returned; she came in on tiptoe, but he heard her, opened his eyes, and quickly closed them again. She wanted to send away Gerasim and sit with him herself. He opened his eyes and said: "No, go away."

"You are suffering very much, eh?"

"Much the same as usual."

"Take some opium."

He consented, and drank it. She went out. For about three hours he was in a tormenting