Page:The Kiss and Other Stories by Anton Tchekhoff, 1908.pdf/49

 “I know it will seem strange to you. ., you will be astonished, but I do not care. . . .”

Ogneff again shrugged his shoulders and prepared to listen.

“It is this. . . ,” began Vera, averting her eyes, and twirling the shawl-tassels in her fingers. “You see, this is. . . that is what I wanted to say. . . . It will seem absurd to you. . . and stupid. . . but I cannot bear it!”

Vera's words, half smothered in incoherent stammering, were suddenly interrupted by tears. She hid her face in the shawl, and wept bitterly. Ogneff, confused and stupefied, coughed, and, having no idea what to say or do, looked helplessly around. He was unused to tears, and Vera's breakdown seemed to make his own eyes water.

“Come, come!” he stammered helplessly. “Vera Gavriilovna! What does this mean? Are you ill? Some one has annoyed you? Tell me what it is. . . and perhaps I can help you.”

And when, in a last attempt to console her, he drew her hands cautiously from her face, she smiled at him through her tears, and said —

“I. . . I love you!”

The words, simple and ordinary, were spoken in a simple and ordinary voice. But Ogneff, covered with intense confusion, turned his face away.

His confusion was followed by fright. The