"You are a dear
human being to me, yes! And that's why--why you mustn't talk that way!"
"Good-by!" said the girl.
The mother heard the sound of her departing footsteps, and knew that
she was walking away very fast, nay, almost running. Pavel followed
her into the yard.
A heavy oppressive fear fell like a load on the mother's breast.
She did not understand what they had been talking about, but she
felt that a new misfortune was in store for her, a great and sad
misfortune. And her thoughts halted at the question, "What does
he want to do?" Her thoughts halted, and were driven into her
brain like a nail. She stood in the kitchen by the oven, and
looked through the window into the profound, starry heaven.
Pavel walked in from the yard with Andrey, and the Little Russian
said, shaking his head:
"Oh, Isay, Isay! What's to be done with him?"
"We must advise him to give up his project," said Pavel glumly.
"Then he'll hand over those who speak to him to the authorities,"
said the Little Russian, flinging his hat away in a corner.
"Pasha, what do you want to do?" asked the mother, drooping her head.
"When? Now?"
"The first of May--the first of May.
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