I know it." Her hot half-whisper, the words of her love, calmed the
mother's agitation, and restored her exhausted strength.
"When will you go to him?" she asked Sasha, pressing her hand to her
body. Looking confidently before her the girl answered:
"As soon as I find somebody to take over my work. I have the money
already, but I might go per etappe. You know I am also awaiting a
sentence. Evidently they are going to send me to Siberia, too. I
will then declare that I desire to be exiled to the same locality
that he will be."
Behind them was heard the voice of Sizov:
"Then give him regards from me, from Sizov. He will know. I'm
Fedya Mazin's uncle."
Sasha stopped, turned around, extending her hand. "I'm acquainted
with Fedya. My name is Alexandra."
"And your patronymic?"
She looked at him and answered:
"I have no father."
"He's dead, you mean?"
"No, he's alive." Something stubborn, persistent, sounded in the
girl's voice and appeared in her face. "He's a landowner, a chief
of a country district. He robs the peasants and beats them. I
cannot recognize him as my father."
"S-s-o-o!" Sizov was taken aback. After a pause he said, looking
at the girl sidewise:
"Well, mother, good-by.
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