Hand him a note when you're
there. Do you understand? We must know."
"I understand. I understand," the mother answered quickly. "I'll
deliver it to him all right. That's my business."
"I'm going," Sasha announced, and silently shook hands with
everybody. She strode away, straight and dry-eyed, with a
peculiarly heavy tread.
"Poor girl!" said Sofya softly.
"Ye-es," Nikolay drawled. Sofya put her hand on the mother's
shoulder and gave her a gentle little shake as she sat in the chair.
"Would you love such a daughter?" and Sofya looked into the mother's face.
"Oh! If I could see them together, if only for one day!" exclaimed
Nilovna, ready to weep.
"Yes, a bit of happiness is good for everybody."
"But there are no people who want only a bit of happiness," remarked
Nikolay; "and when there's much of it, it becomes cheap."
Sofya sat herself at the piano, and began to play something
low and doleful.
CHAPTER VIII
The next morning a number of men and women stood at the gate of the
hospital waiting for the coffin of their comrade to be carried out
to the street. Spies watchfully circled about, their ears alert to
catch each sound, noting faces, manners, and words.
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