Mother

Excerpt: ...does she live?" Pg 256 "Everywhere," he answered with a smile. "Wherever a brave soul is needed, there's where you'll find her." "Also in this movement?" "Yes, of course." He soon left to go to work, and the mother fell to thinking of "that movement" for which the people worked, day in, day out, calmly and resolutely. When confronting them she seemed to stand before a mountain looming in the dark. About noon a tall, well-built lady came. When the mother opened the door for her she threw a little yellow valise on the floor, and quickly seizing Vlasova's hand, asked: "Are you the mother of Pavel Mikhaylovich?" "Yes, I am," the mother replied, embarrassed by the lady's rich appearance. "That's the way I imagined you," said the lady, removing her hat in front of the mirror. "We have been friends of Pavel Mikhaylovich a long time. He spoke about you often." Her voice was somewhat dull, and she spoke slowly; but her movements were quick and vigorous. Her large, limpid gray eyes smiled youthfully; on her temples, however, thin radiate wrinkles were already limned, and silver hairs glistened over her ears. "I'm hungry; can I have a cup of coffee?" "I'll make it for you at once." The mother took down the coffee apparatus from the shelf and quietly asked: "Did Pasha speak about me?" "Yes, indeed, a great deal." The lady took out a little leather cigarette case, lighted a cigarette, and inquired: "You're extremely uneasy about him, aren't you?" Pg 257 The mother smiled, watching the blue, quivering flame of the spirit lamp. Her embarrassment at the presence of the lady vanished in the depths of her joy. "So he talks about me, my dear son!" she thought. "You asked me whether I'm uneasy? Of course, it's not easy for me. But it would have been worse some time ago; now I know that he's not alone, and that even I am not alone." Looking into the lady's face, she asked: "What is your name?" "Sofya," the lady answered, and began to speak in a businesslike way. "The...