And when you look at them well you see that the hard things, the
evil and difficult, are around them, on the outside, and not within."
Liudmila quickly threw up her head, looked at her with a deep,
embracing look. The mother felt that her words did not exhaust
her thoughts, which vexed and offended her.
"You're not speaking about yourself," said her hostess softly.
The mother looked at her, arose from the bed, and dressing asked:
"Not about myself? Yes; you see in this, in all that I live now,
it's hard to think of oneself; how can you withdraw into yourself
when you love this thing, and that thing is dear to you, and you
are afraid for everybody and are sorry for everybody? Everything
crowds into your heart and draws you to all people. How can you
step to one side? It's hard."
Liudmila laughed, saying softly:
"And maybe it's not necessary."
"I don't know whether it's necessary or not; but this I do know--that
people are becoming stronger than life, wiser than life; that's evident."
Standing in the middle of the room, half-dressed, she fell to
reflecting for a moment. Her real self suddenly appeared not to
exist--the one who lived in anxiety and fear for her son, in thoughts
for the safekeeping of his body.
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