the door. He heard Efimia
read the first lines in a
trembling voice. She could
go no farther, but these were
enough. Tears streamed from
her eyes and she threw her
arms round her eldest child
and began talking to him and
covering him with kisses. It
was hard to tell whether she
was laughing or crying.
had asked him to send them
to the village, but important
business had always
interfered, and the letters had
remained lying about
unposted.
"And the little white hares are
skipping about in the fields
now--" sobbed Efimia,
embracing her boy with
streaming eyes. "Granddaddy
dear is so kind and good, and
granny is so kind and so full
of pity. People's hearts are
soft and warm in the village-There is a little church there,
and the men sing in the choir.
Oh, take us away from here,
Queen of Heaven! Intercede
for us, merciful mother!"
"This is from granny and
granddaddy," she cried-"from the village--oh, Queen
of Heaven!-- Oh! holy saints!
The roofs are piled with snow
there now--and the trees are
white, oh, so white! The little
children are out coasting on
their dear little sleddies--and
granddaddy darling, with his
dear bald head is sitting by
the big, old, warm stove, and
the little brown doggie--oh,
my precious chickabiddies--"
Andrei returned to his room
to smoke until the next
patient should come in, and
Efimia suddenly grew still
and wiped her eyes; only her
lips quivered. She was afraid
of him, oh, so afraid! She
quaked and shuddered at
every look and every footstep
Andrei remembered as he
listened to her that his wife
had given him letters at three
or four different times, and
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