be Kromitzki's. Suddenly he himself looked out
from the adjacent room, and dropping his eyeglass rushed up with open
arms to salute his new relative. I saw as in a dream that dry skull,
so like a death's-head, the glittering eyes, and the crop of black
hair. Kromitzki's arrival was the most natural thing in the world, and
yet I felt as if I had looked into the face of death. It seemed to
me like a nightmare, and the words, "How do you do, Leon?" the most
fantastic and most improbable words I could have heard anywhere.
Presently such a rage, such a loathing combined with fear, seized me
that it took all my self-control to prevent me from throwing him down
and dashing out his brains. I have sometimes felt such paroxysms of
rage and loathing, but never combined with fear; it was not so much
fear of a living man as horror of the dead. For some time I could not
find a word to say. Fortunately he might suppose I had not recognized
him at first, or was astonished that a man I scarcely knew should
treat me so familiarly. It still irritates me when I think of it.

I tried to recover myself; he in the mean while readjusted his
eyeglass, and shaking my hand once more, said:--

"Well, and how are you? How are Aniela and her mother? Old lady always
ill, I suppose. And our aunt, how is she?"

I was seized with amazement and anger that this man should mention
those nearest and dearest to me as if they belonged to him. A man of
the world bears most things and hides his emotions, because he is
trained from his earliest years to keep himself under control;
nevertheless I felt that I could not bear it any longer, and in order
to pull myself together and occupy my thoughts with something else, I
called for the servant and told him to get tea ready.

Kromitzki appeared uneasy that I did not reply at once to his
questions; the eyeglass dropped again, and he said, hurriedly:--

"There is nothing wrong, is there? Why don't you speak?"

"They are all well," I replied.

It suddenly struck me that my emotion might give the hateful man an
advantage over me, and the thought restored all my self-possession at
once. I led him into the dining-room, asked him to sit down, and then
said:--

"How is it going with you? Have you come to make a long stay?"

"I do not know," he replied. "I was longing for Aniela; and I fancy
she too must have been anxious to have me back again. We have only
been a few months together, and for a newly married coupl