Now they're going
to try my son for all this, and sentence him; and he'll escape from
Siberia and continue with his work."
Her pride waxed as she spoke. It created the image of a hero, and
demanded expression in words. The mother needed an offset--
something fine and bright--to balance the gloomy incident she had
witnessed that day, with its senseless horror and shameless cruelty.
Instinctively yielding to this demand of a healthy soul, she reached
out for everything she had seen that was pure and shining and heaped
it into one dazzling, cleansing fire.
"Many such people have already been born, more and more are being
born, and they will all stand up for the freedom of the people,
for the truth, to the very end of their lives."
She forgot precaution, and although she did not mention names, she
told everything known to her of the secret work for the emancipation
of the people from the chains of greed. In depicting the personalities
she put all her force into her words, all the abundance of love
awakened in her so late by her rousing experiences. And she herself
became warmly enamored of the images rising up in her memory, illumined
and beautified by her feeling.
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