ce before her. There
slowly arose in her soul a certain self-conscious power and
increasing courage.

When she spied her father on the station platform, not so much as a
tremor disturbed her. Already there loomed between them that new
world which already lured her.

She even went to the station-master's office for a ticket. She stood
before the window and asked for it in a loud voice. Orlowski (for he
sold the tickets himself) raised his head with a violent start and
something like a red shadow passed over his face, but he did not
utter a word. He calmly handed her her change and stared at her
coldly, stroking his beard.

On leaving, she turned her head and met his burning gaze. He started
violently back from the window and swore aloud, while she went on,
only somehow she went more slowly and her legs trembled under her.
That gleam of his eyes, as though bloody with tears, struck deep
into her heart.

The train arrived and she got on. From the window of the car she
still kept gazing at the station. Krenska waved to her with a
handkerchief from the house and pretended she was wiping away tears.

Orlowski, in a red cap and immaculately white gloves, paced up and
down the platform with a stiff official air and did not glance even
once in her direction.

The bell rang and the train pulled out.

The telegrapher was bowing his farewell to her, but she did not see
him; she saw only how her father slowly turned about and entered the
office.

"Forever! . . ." she whispered. Orlowski came in for supper at the
usual hour.

Krenska, in spite of her joy at Janina's departure, was uneasy; she
glanced into his eyes with a feeling of fear, walked about even more
silently than usual, and was humbler and smaller than ever before.

Orlowski seemed to be wrestling with himself, for he did not burst
forth in curses and did not even mention Janina.

On the following day only he locked Janina's room and put the key
away in his desk.

He did not sleep that night; his eyes were sunken and his face
deathly pale. Krenska heard him walking up and down his room all
night, but on the following day he was at work as usual.

At dinner Krenska plucked up courage to speak to him about
something.

"Aha . . . I have still to settle with you!" he said.

Krenska grew pale. She began to speak to him about Janina, about her
sympathy for her, how she had tried to dissuade her from leaving,
how earnestly she had begged her.

"You're a f