timid with women, not
to respond in a more human way to the advances of a girl like Nathalie
Haldin--I thought to myself. Those lofty and solitary existences (I
remembered the words suddenly) make a young man shy and an old man
savage--often.

"Well," I encouraged Miss Haldin to proceed.

She was still very dissatisfied with herself.

"I went from bad to worse," she said, with an air of discouragement very
foreign to her. "I did everything foolish except actually bursting into
tears. I am thankful to say I did not do that. But I was unable to speak
for quite a long time."

She had stood before him, speechless, swallowing her sobs, and when
she managed at last to utter something, it was only her brother's
name--"Victor--Victor Haldin!" she gasped out, and again her voice
failed her.

"Of course," she commented to me, "this distressed him. He was
quite overcome. I have told you my opinion that he is a man of deep
feeling--it is impossible to doubt it. You should have seen his face.
He positively reeled. He leaned against the wall of the terrace. Their
friendship must have been the very brotherhood of souls! I was grateful
to him for that emotion, which made me feel less ashamed of my own lack
of self-control. Of course I had regained the power of speech at once,
almost. All this lasted not more than a few seconds. 'I am his sister,'
I said. 'Maybe you have heard of me.'"

"And had he?" I interrupted.

"I don't know. How could it have been otherwise? And yet.... But what
does that matter? I stood there before him, near enough to be touched
and surely not looking like an impostor. All I know is, that he put
out both his hands then to me, I may say flung them out at me, with
the greatest readiness and warmth, and that I seized and pressed them,
feeling that I was finding again a little of what I thought was lost
to me for ever, with the loss of my brother--some of that hope,
inspiration, and support which I used to get from my dear dead...."

I understood quite well what she meant. We strolled on slowly. I
refrained from looking at her. And it was as if answering my own
thoughts that I murmured--

"No doubt it was a great friendship--as you say. And that young man
ended by welcoming your name, so to speak, with both hands. After that,
of course, you would understand each other. Yes, you would understand
each other quickly."

It was a moment before I heard her voice.

"Mr. Razumov seems to be a man of few words