As
we went farther from the veranda, I noticed that Aniela's animation
began to flag; she had grown paler and seemed frightened at her own
temerity; but she could not draw back now, and began in an unsteady
voice:--
"If you only knew how unhappy I have been these last days--"
"Do you think I have been much happier?" I replied.
"I know you have not, and because of that I have a request to make.
You understand everything, and are so good and generous you will not
refuse what I ask you."
"Tell me, what do you want me to do?"
"Leon, you must leave here, go abroad again, and do not come back
until mamma and I are able to leave Ploszow."
I was sure she would ask me that. I remained silent for a while as if
searching for an answer.
"You can do with me what you like," I said; "but tell me, why do you
send me into exile?"
"I do not send you into exile; but you know why--"
"I know," I replied, with unfeigned sadness and resignation; "it is
because I am ready to give the last drop of my blood for you, because
I would shield you with my body from any danger, because I love you
more than my life,--these are heavy sins indeed!"
"No," she interrupted, with feverish energy, "but because I am the
wife of a man I love and respect,--and I will not listen to such
words."
Impatience and anger seized me; I knew she did not speak the truth.
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