They say that a dog was once a wolf. Now I'll hide these books."
Ignaty and Yakob walked up to him, and both stretched out their hands.
"Give us some."
"Are they all the same?" Rybin asked of Sofya.
"No, they're different. There's a newspaper here, too."
"Oh!"
The three men quickly walked into the shack.
"The peasant is on fire," said the mother in a low voice, looking
after Rybin thoughtfully.
"Yes," answered Sofya. "I've never seen such a face as his--such a
martyrlike face. Let's go inside, too. I want to look at them."
When the women reached the door they found the men already engrossed
in the newspapers. Ignaty was sitting on the board, the newspaper
spread on his knees, and his fingers run through his hair. He
raised his head, gave the women a rapid glance, and bent over his
paper again. Rybin was standing to let the ray of sun that penetrated
a chink in the roof fall on his paper. He moved his lips as he read.
Ignaty read kneeling, with his breast against the edge of the board.
Sofya felt the eagerness of the men for the word of truth. Her face
brightened with a joyful smile. Walking carefully over to a corner,
she sat down next to the mother, her arm on the mother's shoulder,
and gazed about silently.
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