"Oh, my dear, " he groaned at last, "how can you be so cruel?"

"I can't help myself, Dirk, " she answered.

"I've worshipped you as no woman was ever worshipped before. If in anything I did I displeased you, why didn't you tell me, and I'd have changed. I've done everything I could for you. "

She did not answer. Her face was set, and he saw that he was only boring her. She put on a coat and her hat. She moved towards the door, and he saw that in a moment she would be gone. He went up to her quickly and fell on his knees before her, seizing her hands: he abandoned all self-respect.

"Oh, don't go, my darling. I can't live without you; I shall kill myself. If I've done anything to offend you I beg you to forgive me. Give me another chance. I'll try harder still to make you happy. "

"Get up, Dirk. You're making yourself a perfect fool. "

He staggered to his feet, but still he would not let her go.

"Where are you going?" he said hastily. "You don't know what Strickland's place is like. You can't live there. It would be awful. "

"If I don't care, I don't see why you should. "

"Stay a minute longer. I must speak. After all, you can't grudge me that. "

"What is the good? I've made up my mind. Nothing that you can say will make me alter it. "

He gulped, and put his hand to his heart to ease its painful beating.

"I'm not going to ask you to change your mind, but I want you to listen to me for a minute. It's the last thing I shall ever ask you. Don't refuse me that. "

She paused, looking at him with those reflective eyes of hers, which now were so different to him. She came back into the studio and leaned against the table.

"Well?"

Stroeve made a great effort to collect himself.

"You must be a little reasonable. You can't live on air, you know. Strickland hasn't got a penny. "

"I know. "

"You'll suffer the most awful privations. You know why he took so long to get well. He was half starved. "

"I can earn money for him. "

"How?"

"I don't know. I shall find a way. "

A horrible thought passed through the Dutchman's mind, and he shuddered.

"I think you must be mad. I don't know what has come over you. "

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Now may I go?"

"Wait one second longer. "

He looked round his studio wearily; he had loved it because her presence had made it gay and homelike; he shut his eyes for an instant; then he gave her a long look as though to impress on his mind the picture of her. He got up and took his hat.

"No; I'll go. "

"You?"

She was startled. She did not know what he meant.

"I can't bear to think of you living in that horrible, filthy attic. After all, this is your home just as much as mine. You'll be comfortable here. You'll be spared at least the worst privations. "

He went to the drawer in which he kept his money and took out several bank-notes.

"I would like to give you half what I've got here. "

He put them on the table. Neither Strickland nor his wife spoke.

Then he recollected something else.

"Will you pack up my clothes and leave them with the concierge? I'll come and fetch them to-morrow. " He tried to smile. " Good-bye, my dear. I'm grateful for all the happiness you gave me in the past. "

He walked out and closed the door behind him. With my mind's eye I saw Strickland throw his hat on a table, and, sitting down, begin to smoke a cigarette.

“啊，我的亲爱的，”最后他呻吟着说，“你怎么能这样残忍啊？”

“我也由不得自己，戴尔克，”她回答。

“我崇拜你，世界上再也没有哪个女人受过人们这样的崇拜。如果我做了什么事使你不高兴，为什么你不对我讲？只要你说了，我一定会改过来的。为了你，凡是我能做到的我都做了。”

她并没有回答。她的脸上一点表情也没有，他看到自己只不过在惹她生厌。她穿上一件外衣，戴上帽子，向门口走去。他明白再过一分钟他就再也见不到她了，于是很快地走到她前面，跪倒在地上，抓住她的两只手；他什么脸面也不顾了。

“啊，不要走，亲爱的。没有你我就活不下去了，我会自杀的。如果我做了什么事惹恼了你，我求你原谅我。再给我一次机会吧。我会更努力地使你幸福的。”

“站起来，戴尔克。你简直丢尽丑了。”

他摇摇晃晃地站了起来，但是仍然不放她走。

“你到哪儿去啊？”他急急忙忙地问，“你不知道思特里克兰德住在怎样一个地方。你在那地方是过活不了的。太可怕了。”

“如果我自己都不在乎，与你又有什么相干呢？”

“你再待一会，容我把话说完。不管怎么样，这一点你还可以让我做到吧。”

“那又有什么好处？我已经下了决心了。不管你说什么都改变不了我的主意。”

他抽了一口气，把一只手按在胸脯上，因为心脏跳动得简直让他忍受不了了。

“我不是要你改变主意，我只是求你再听我说几句话。这是我要求你的最后一件事了。不要拒绝我吧。”

她站住了，用她那沉思的眼睛打量了他一会儿，她的目光现在变得那么冷漠无情了。她走回到画室里，往桌子上一靠。

“说吧！”

施特略夫费了好大劲才使自己平静了一点。

“你一定要冷静一些。你不能靠空气过日子啊。你知道，思特里克兰德手里一个钱也没有。”

“我知道。”

“你吃不够吃，喝不够喝，会吃尽苦头的。你知道他为什么这么久身体才恢复过来？他一直过着半饥不饱的生活啊！”

“我可以挣钱养活他。”

“怎么挣钱？”

“我不知道。我会找到个办法的。”

一个极其恐怖的想法掠过这个荷兰画师的心头，他打了个哆嗦。

“我想你一定是发疯了。我不知道你被什么迷住了。”

她耸了耸肩膀。

“现在我可以走了吗？”

“再等一秒钟。”

他疲惫不堪地环顾了一下自己的画室；他喜爱这间画室，因为她的存在，这间屋子显得那么美好，那么充满了家庭气氛。他把眼睛闭了一刻，接着他的目光在她身上逗留了好一会儿，似乎想把她的图像永远印记在脑中似的。他站起来，拿起了帽子。

“不，叫我走吧。”

“你？”

她吃了一惊。她不明白他是什么意思。

“想到你要生活在那样一间肮脏可怕的阁楼里，我受不了。不管怎么说，这个地方既是我的家，同样也是你的家。你在这里会过得舒服些。至少你用不着受那种最可怕的罪了。”

他走到放钱的抽屉前边，从里面拿出几张钞票来。

“我把我这里的一点钱给你一半吧。”

他把钱放在桌子上。思特里克兰德和他的妻子都没有说什么。

这时他又想起一件事来。

“你好不好把我的衣服理一理，放在下边门房那儿？我明天再来取。”他苦笑了一下。“再见，亲爱的。你过去给了我那么多幸福，我感谢你。”

他走了出去，随手把门关上。在想象中，我看到思特里克兰德把自己的帽子往桌上一扔，坐下来，开始吸一支纸烟。