"Hush!" said Lupin, flushing deeply, and wincing. "Hush!"
"But, after all, you're right," she said, in a gentler voice. "One can't wipe out what one has done. If I were to give back everything I've taken—if I were to spend years in remorse and repentance, it would be no use. In your eyes I should always be Sonia Kritchnoff, the thief!" The great tears welled slowly out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks; she let them stream unheeded.
"Sonia!" cried Lupin, protesting.
But she would not hear him. She broke out with fresh vehemence, a feverish passion: "And yet, if I'd been a thief, like so many others. . . but you know why I stole. I'm not trying to defend myself, but, after all, I did it to keep honest; and when I loved you it was not the heart of a thief that thrilled, it was the heart of a poor girl who loved. . .that's all. . .who loved."
"You don't know what you're doing! You're torturing me! Be quiet!" cried Lupin hoarsely, beside himself.
"Never mind. . .I'm going. . .we shall never see one another any more," she sobbed. "But will you. . .will you shake hands just for the last time?"
