The voices of the bass notes grumbled in
a dull, offended tone.
Sofya played a long time. The music disquieted the mother, and
aroused in her a desire to ask of what it was speaking. Indistinct
sensations and thoughts passed through her mind in quick succession.
Sadness and anxiety gave place to moments of calm joy. A swarm of
unseen birds seemed to be flying about in the room, penetrating
everywhere, touching the heart with caressing wings, soothing and at
the same time alarming it. The feelings in the mother's breast
could not be fixed in words. They emboldened her heart with
perplexed hopes, they fondled it in a fresh and firm embrace.
A kindly impulse came to her to say something good both to these two
persons and to all people in general. She smiled softly,
intoxicated by the music, feeling herself capable of doing work
helpful to the brother and sister. Her eyes roved about in search
of something to do for them. She saw nothing but to walk out into
the kitchen quietly, and prepare the samovar. But this did not
satisfy her desire. It struggled stubbornly in her breast, and as
she poured out the tea she began to speak excitedly with an agitated
smile.
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