And a sweeter mood of sorrow was coming over her, and tears were starting into her eyes; but all at once she asked herself: “To whom was she saying that? Where is he, and what is he now?”

And again everything was shrouded in chill, cruel doubt, and again, frowning nervously, she tried to gaze into that world where he was. And now, now, she thought, she was just penetrating the mystery … But at that instant, when the incomprehensible, it seemed, was being unveiled before her eyes, a loud rattle at the door handle broke with a painful shock on her hearing. Her maid, Dunyasha, rushed quickly and abruptly into the room with frightened eyes, that took no heed of her.

“Come to your papa, make haste,” Dunyasha said, with a strange excited expression. “A misfortune … Pyotr Ilyitch … a letter,” she gasped out, sobbing.


  By PanEris using Melati.

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