She jerked the valise, and it opened.
"Look! look! All you people!" she shouted, standing up and waving
the bundle of the proclamations she had quickly seized over her
head. Through the noise in her ears she heard the exclamations of
the people who came running up, and she saw them pouring in quickly
from all directions.
"What is it?"
"There's a spy!"
"What's the matter?"
"She's a thief, they say!"
"She?"
"Would a thief shout?"
"Such a respectable one! My, my, my!"
"Whom did they catch?"
"I'm not a thief," said the mother in a full voice, somewhat calmed
at the sight of the people who pressed closely upon her from all sides.
"Yesterday they tried the political prisoners; my son was one of
them, Vlasov. He made a speech. Here it is. I'm carrying it to
the people in order that they should read, think about the truth."
One paper was carefully pulled from her hands. She waved the papers
in the air and flung them into the crowd.
"She won't get any praise for that, either!" somebody exclaimed
in a frightened voice.
"Whee-ee-w!" was the response.
The mother saw that the papers were being snatched up, were being
hidden in breasts and pockets.
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