At the windows the dark tops of
the lime trees trembled quietly. It was growing dusk, and Yegor's
face on the pillow turned dark.
"How bad I feel," he said. He closed his eyes and became silent.
The mother listened to his breathing, looked around, and sat for a
few minutes motionless, seized by a cold sensation of sadness.
Finally she dozed off.
The muffled sound of a door being carefully shut awakened her, and
she saw the kind, open eyes of Yegor.
"I fell asleep; excuse me," she said quietly.
"And you excuse me," he answered, also quietly. At the door was
heard a rustle and Liudmila's voice.
"They sit in the darkness and whisper. Where is the knob?"
The room trembled and suddenly became filled with a white, unfriendly
light. In the middle of the room stood Liudmila, all black, tall,
straight, and serious. Yegor transferred his glance to her, and
making a great effort to move his body, raised his hand to his breast.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Liudmila, running up to him. He
looked at the mother with fixed eyes, and now they seemed large
and strangely bright.
"Wait!" he whispered.
Opening his mouth wide, he raised his head and stretched his hand
forward.
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