It seems that everything
has been beaten out of me, that my soul has been locked up and
sealed tight. It's grown blind, it does not hear!"
Her quick-drawn breath was almost a sob. She bent forward, and
continued in a lowered voice: "When my husband died I turned to my
son; but he went into this business, and I was seized with a pity
for him, such a yearning pity--for if he should perish, how was I
to live alone? What dread, what fright I have undergone! My heart
was rent when I thought of his fate.
"Our woman's love is not a pure love! We love that which we need.
And here are you! You are grieving about your mother. What do you
want her for? And all the others go and suffer for the people, they
go to prison, to Siberia, they die for them, many are hung. Young
girls walk alone at night, in the snow, in the mud, in the rain.
They walk seven versts from the city to our place. Who drives them?
Who pursues them? They love! You see, theirs is pure love! They
believe! Yes, indeed, they believe, Andriusha! But here am I--
I can't love like that! I love my own, the near ones!"
"Yes, you can!" said the Little Russian, and turning away his face
from her, he rubbed his head, face, and eyes vigorously as was his
wont.
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