"What a lovely evening!" he kept saying to himself, as he looked out on
the garden. But his thoughts were elsewhere. He felt ashamed and
afraid.
He was afraid of Lida. Since their interview, he had not set eyes on
her. To him she seemed another Lida now, unlike the one that had
surrendered to his passion.
"Anyhow," he thought, "the matter is not at an end yet. The child must
be got rid of ... or shall I treat the whole thing as a joke? I wonder
what she is doing now?"
He seemed to see before him Lida's handsome, inscrutable eyes, and her
lips tightly compressed, vindictive, menacing.
"She may be going to pay me out? A girl of that sort isn't one to be
trifled with. At all costs I shall have to ..."
The prospect of a huge scandal vaguely suggested itself, striking
terror to his craven heart.
"After all," he thought, "what could she possibly do?" Then suddenly it
all seemed quite clear and simple. "Perhaps she'll drown herself? Let
her go to the deuce! I didn't force her to do it! They'll say that she
was my mistress--well, what of that? It only proves that I am a good-
looking fellow.
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