"Come with me."

"Where?"

"It doesn't matter where. We can see about that, later."

"But I've no money?"

Sanine laughed.

"Neither have I."

"No, no, you'd better go by yourself. School begins in a fortnight, and
I shall get back into the old groove."

Each looked straight into the other's eyes, and Ivanoff turned away in
confusion, as if he had seen a distorted reflection of his own face in
a mirror.

Crossing the yard, Sanine went indoors while Ivanoff waited in the dark
garden, with its sombre shadows and its odour of decay. The leaves
rustled under his feet as he approached Sanine's bedroom-window. When
Sanine passed through the drawing-room he heard voices on the veranda,
and he stopped to listen.

"But what do you want of me?" he could hear Lida saying. Her peevish,
languid tone surprised him.

"I want nothing," replied Novikoff irritably, "only it seems strange
that you should think you were sacrificing yourself for me, whereas--"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Lida, struggling with her tears.

"It is not I, but it is you that are sacrificing yourself. Yes, it's
you! What more would you have?"

Novikoff was annoyed.

"How little you understand my meaning!" he said. "I love you, and thus
it's no sacrifice. But if you think that our union implies a sacrifice
either on your part or on mine, how on earth are we going to live
together? Do try and understand me. We can only live together on one
condition, and that is, if neither of us imagines that there is any
sacrifice about it. Either we love each other, and our union is a
reasonable and natural one, or we don't love each other, and then--"