I know what
it means to have a near one go into exile. But I want to say to
you, nevertheless, that your son must be a splendid man. He's
young--that's evident; but he is a great soul. It must be good
and terrible to have such a son."
"Yes, it's good. And now it's no longer terrible."
Liudmila settled her smoothly combed hair with her tawny hand and
sighed softly. A light, warm shadow trembled on her cheeks, the
shadow of a suppressed smile.
"We are going to print it. Will you help me?"
"Of course."
"I'll set it up quickly. You lie down; you had a hard day; you're
tired. Lie down here on the bed; I'm not going to sleep; and at
night maybe I'll wake you up to help me. When you have lain down,
put out the lamp."
She threw two logs of wood into the stove, straightened herself, and
passed through the narrow door near the stove, firmly closing it
after her. The mother followed her with her eyes, and began to
undress herself, thinking reluctantly of her hostess: "A stern
person; and yet her heart burns. She can't conceal it. Everyone
loves. If you don't love you can't live."
Fatigue dizzied her brain; but her soul was strangely calm, and
everything was illumined from within by a soft, kind light which
quietly and evenly filled her breast.
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