At the edge, which descended perpendicularly to
the ditch, from which sand was being taken, stood Pavel singing
softly and sonorously with the voice of Andrey:
"Rise up, awake, you workingmen!"
She walked past the mound along the road to the city, and putting
her hand to her forehead looked at her son. His figure was clearly
and sharply outlined against the sky. She could not make up her
mind to go up to him. She was ashamed because she was pregnant.
And she held an infant in her arms, besides. She walked farther on.
Children were playing ball in the field. There were many of them,
and the ball was a red one. The infant threw himself forward out of
her arms toward them, and began to cry aloud. She gave him the
breast, and turned back. Now soldiers were already at the mound,
and they turned the bayonets against her. She ran quickly to the
church standing in the middle of the field, the white, light church
that seemed to be constructed out of clouds, and was immeasurably
high. A funeral was going on there. The coffin was wide, black,
and tightly covered with a lid. The priest and deacon walked around
in white canonicals and sang:
"Christ has arisen from the dead.
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