“Oh, by the way,” he said at the very moment she was in the doorway, “we’re going tomorrow for certain, aren’t we?”

“You, but not I,” she said, turning round to him.

“Anna, we can’t go on like this...”

“You, but not I,” she repeated.

“This is getting unbearable!”

“You...you will be sorry for this,” she said, and went out.

Frightened by the desperate expression with which these words were uttered, he jumped up and would have run after her, but on second thoughts he sat down and scowled, setting his teeth. This vulgar — as he thought it — threat of something vague exasperated him.