Every one has something of their own," Shatov said, still more softly, his head drooping lower and lower.
"But if you were to ask perhaps I should tell, perhaps I should!" she repeated ecstatically.

"Why don't you ask?
Ask, ask me nicely, Shatushka, perhaps I shall tell you.

Entreat me, Shatushka, so that I shall consent of myself.

Shatushka, Shatushka!" But Shatushka was silent.

There was complete silence lasting a minute.
Tears slowly trickled down her painted cheeks.