"
Androvsky looked profoundly agitated. His hands dropped down.
"I must go," he said. "I must go to the priest."
He got up from the sand.
"Come to the tent, Domini."
She rose to her feet.
"When you come back," she said, "I shall be waiting for you, Boris."
He looked at her. There was in his eyes a piercing wistfulness. He
opened his lips. At that moment Domini felt that he was on the point of
telling her all that she longed to know. But the look faded. The lips
closed. He took her in his arms and kissed her almost desperately.
"No, no," he said. "I'll keep your love--I'll keep it."
"You could never lose it."
"I might."
"Never."
"If I believed that."
"Boris!"
Suddenly burning tears rushed from her eyes.
"Don't ever say a thing like that to me again!" she said with passion.
She pointed to the grave close to them.
"If you were there," she said, "and I was living, and you had died
before--before you had told me--I believe--God forgive me, but I do
believe that if, when you died, I were taken to heaven I should find my
hell there."
She looked through her tears at the words: "Priez pour lui.
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