Chapter 7

           

           AgafeaMihalovnawentoutontiptoe;thenurseletdowntheblind,chasedaflyoutfromunderthemuslincanopyofthecrib,andabumblebeestrugglingonthewindow-frame,andsatdownwavingafadedbranchofbirchoverthemotherandthebaby.

           “Howhotitis!ifGodwouldsendadropofrain,”shesaid.

           “Yes,yes,shshshwasallKittyanswered,rockingalittle,andtenderlysqueezingtheplumplittlearm,withrollsoffatatthewrist,whichMityastillwavedfeeblyasheopenedandshuthiseyes.ThathandworriedKitty;shelongedtokissthelittlehand,butwasafraidtoforfearofwakingthebaby.Atlastthelittlehandceasedwaving,andtheeyesclosed.Onlyfromtimetotime,ashewentonsucking,thebabyraisedhislong,curlyeyelashesandpeepedathismotherwithweteyes,thatlookedblackinthetwilight.Thenursehadleftofffanning,andwasdozing.Fromabovecamethepealsoftheoldprince’svoice,andthechuckleofKatavasov.

           “Theyhavegotintotalkwithoutme,”thoughtKitty,“butstillit’svexingthatKostya’sout.He’ssuretohavegonetothebee-houseagain.Thoughit’sapityhe’stheresooften,stillI’mglad.Itdistractshismind.He’sbecomealtogetherhappierandbetternowthaninthespring.HeusedtobesogloomyandworriedthatIfeltfrightenedforhim.Andhowabsurdheis!”shewhispered,smiling.

           Sheknewwhatworriedherhusband.Itwashisunbelief.

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