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From Vyshegorye, dear Father. Five miles you have dragged yourself with the baby. What do you want? Ive come to look at you. I have been to you beforeor have you forgotten? Youve no great memory if youve forgotten me. They told us you were ill. Thinks I, Ill go and see him for myself. Now I see you, and youre not ill! Youll live another twenty years. God bless you! There are plenty to pray for you; how should you be ill? I thank you for all, daughter. By the way, I have a thing to ask, not a great one. Here are sixty kopecks. Give them, dear Father, to some one poorer than me. I thought as I came along, better give through him. Hell know whom to give to. Thanks, my dear, thanks! You are a good woman. I love you. I will do so certainly. Is that your little girl? My little girl, Father, Lizaveta. May the Lord bless you both, you and your babe Lizaveta! You have gladdened my heart, mother. Farewell, dear children, farewell, dear ones. He blessed them all and bowed low to them. |
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