Nothing made her so unhappy as the reiterations of Fedosya, uttered
between sobs: "She hid herself and hid herself, our Lelechka!"
But the thoughts of Serafima Aleksandrovna were confused, and she
could not quite grasp what was happening.
Fever was consuming Lelechka, and there were times when she lost
consciousness and spoke in delirium. But when she returned to herself
she bore her pain and her fatigue with gentle good nature; she smiled
feebly at her _mamochka_, so that her _mamochka_ should not see how
much she suffered. Three days passed, torturing like a nightmare.
Lelechka grew quite feeble. She did not know that she was dying.
She glanced at her mother with her dimmed eyes, and lisped in a
scarcely audible, hoarse voice: "_Tiu-tiu, mamochka!_ Make _tiu-tiu,
mamochka!_"
Serafima Aleksandrovna hid her face behind the curtains near
Lelechka's bed. How tragic!
"_Mamochka!_" called Lelechka in an almost inaudible voice.
Lelechka's mother bent over her, and Lelechka, her vision grown still
more dim, saw her mother's pale, despairing face for the last time.
"A white _mamochka_!" whispered Lelechka.
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