Yes, Paul knew how to shoot! The idea made him laugh. But now he came to
think of it, he had not had great practice with a revolver, and might not
do so well as with a gun or rifle. But the whole thing seemed so absurd,
he did not think it of much consequence.
"Of course I'll take it to please you, Dmitry," he said, "though I wish
you would tell me why."
However, Dmitry escaped from the room without further words, his finger
upon his lips.
The lady was looking more exquisitely white than usual; she wore soft pale
mauve, and appeared in Paul's eyes a thing of joy.
When they were seated on the launch in their chairs, she let him hold her
hand, but she did not talk much at first; only now he understood her
silences, and did not worry over them--so great a teacher is love to
quicken the perception of man.
He sat there, and gazed at her, and tried to realise that it was really he
who was experiencing all this happiness. This wonderful, wonderful
woman--and he was her lover.
At last something in her expression of sadness caught his watchful eye,
and an ache came into his mind to know where hers had gone.
"Darling," he said tenderly, "mayn't I come there, too?"
She turned towards him--a shadow was in her eyes.
"No, Paul," she said. "Not there.
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