"But I
don't like shadows."
"That'll do," said Nikolay seriously, but immediately followed up the
admonition by the businesslike remark: "There can't be two opinions
as to the escape, if it's possible to arrange it. But before
everything, we must know whether the comrades in prison want it."
Sasha drooped her head. Sofya, lighting a cigarette, looked at
her brother, and with a broad sweep of her arm dropped the match
in a corner.
"How is it possible they should not want it?" asked the mother
with a sigh. Sofya nodded to her, smiling, and walked over to the
window. The mother could not understand the failure of the others
to respond, and looked at them in perplexity. She wanted so much
to hear more about the possibility of an escape.
"I must see Vyesovshchikov," said Nikolay.
"All right. To-morrow I'll tell you when and where," replied Sasha.
"What is he going to do?" asked Sofya, pacing through the room.
"It's been decided to make him compositor in a new printing place.
Until then he'll stay with the forester."
Sasha's brow lowered. Her face assumed its usual severe expression.
Her voice sounded caustic. Nikolay walked up to the mother, who was
washing cups, and said to her:
"You'll see Pasha day after to-morrow.
Pages:
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420