He burned as though on fire.
Tchelkache gazed at him with astonishment.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked.
"Nothing."
But Gavrilo's face grew red and then ashy pale. The lad moved his feet
restlessly as though he would have thrown himself upon Tchelkache, or
as though he were torn by Borne secret desire difficult to realize.
His suppressed excitement moved Tchelkache to some apprehension. He
wondered what form it would take in breaking out.
Gavrilo gave a laugh, a strange laugh, like a sob. His head was bent,
so that Tchelkache could not see the expression of his face; he could
only perceive Gavrilo's ears, by turns red and white.
"Go to the devil!" exclaimed Tchelkache, motioning with his hand. "Are
you in love with me? Say? Look at you mincing like a young girl. Are
you distressed at leaving me? Eh! youngster, speak, or else I'm going!"
"You're going?" cried Gavrilo, in a sonorous voice. The deserted and
sandy beach trembled at this cry, and the waves of sand brought by the
waves of the sea seemed to shudder. Tchelkache also shuddered.
Suddenly Gavrilo darted from his place, and throwing himself at
Tchelkache's feet, entwined his legs with his arms and drew him toward
him.
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