The mother carefully held it up and caught her breath as
she looked into his face. With a convulsive and powerful movement
of his neck he flung his head back, and said aloud:
"Give me air!"
A quiver ran through his body; his head dropped limply on his
shoulder, and in his wide open eyes the cold light of the lamp
burning over the bed was reflected dully.
"My darling!" whispered the mother, firmly pressing his hand,
which suddenly grew heavy.
Liudmila slowly walked away from the bed, stopped at the window
and stared into space.
"He's dead!" she said in an unusually loud voice unfamiliar to
Vlasova. She bent down, put her elbows on the window sill, and
repeated in dry, startled tones: "He's dead! He died calmly, like
a man, without complaint." And suddenly, as if struck a blow on
the head, she dropped faintly on her knees, covered her face, and
gave vent to dull, stifled groans.
CHAPTER VII
The mother folded Yegor's hands over his breast and adjusted his
head, which was strangely warm, on the pillow. Then silently wiping
her eyes, she went to Liudmila, bent over her, and quietly stroked
her thick hair. The woman slowly turned around to her, her dull
eyes widened in a sickly way.
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