Once when
Pavel accompanied her out onto the porch, the mother overheard their
abrupt conversation.
"Will you carry the banner?" the girl asked in a low voice.
"Yes."
"Is it settled?"
"Yes, it's my right."
"To prison again?" Pavel was silent. "Is it not possible for you--"
She stopped.
"What?"
"To give it up to somebody else?"
"No!" he said aloud.
"Think of it! You're a man of such influence; you are so much liked
--you and Nakhodka are the two foremost revolutionary workers here.
Think how much you could accomplish for the cause of freedom! You
know that for this they'll send you off far, far, and for a long time!"
Nilovna thought she heard in the girl's voice the familiar sound of
fear and anguish, and her words fell upon the mother's heart like
heavy, icy drops of water.
"No, I have made up my mind. Nothing can make me give it up!"
"Not even if I beg you--if I----"
Pavel suddenly began to speak rapidly with a peculiar sternness.
"You ought not to speak that way. Why you? You ought not!"
"I am a human being!" she said in an undertone.
"A good human being, too!" he said also in an undertone, and in a
peculiar voice, as if unable to catch his breath.
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