Page:Storm Over Paris.pdf/49

lamp shade. It was flecked with cigarette burns. So many- one, two, three, four... eight, nine, ten... twenty, thirty...No, they made a design-a man's face, with empty eye-sockets, a nose, a mouth. And the mouth was open, too, deep and cavernous. She could swear that a blast of cold swept out from the image, a shadowy coldness. And the walls were full of shadows. No, she'd better not look at them. She must close her eyes. She must hide deep within herself, and see nothing.

"Don't take it to heart, dear," Soma's voice burst like a bombshell in the silence. "Tomorrow I'll be going to the sanatorium-and I'll not be bothering you any more... only that I wanted to say good-bye to you. To take your last kiss with me... I know, Anna, that I'm asking too much." His voice, low and deliberate, with a tense intonation, ceased for a moment, and then he went on. "I love you, Anna. I know you would be justified in saying that a man in my position has no right to love. I've thought about it myself... and yet-" He reached out his arms piteously, took Anna's hand and lifted it to his lips. "Anna, put your arms about me. I want to take your touch with me into the grave. . ."

Deathly pale, and with terror on her face, Anna stared at him.

"Don't stare at me, dearest," Soma drew her toward him. "I can't bear the fear in your eyes. I want you to laugh. Do you hear me, Anna? Laugh! Tears are not for you. Even after I'm dead I want you to laugh, laugh..."

As though bewitched by his words, Anna opened her lips, but no sound came forth. Soma went on talking.

"I have long prepared myself for this moment. I wanted to say the most fantastic last words in your arms-and then die. And now you have come, and you have given me new life. Your breath has refreshed me. The enchantment of your