Chapter XXIV
Once more alone! He sat in his room, musing of her, recalling her dear features. There was an album before him--portrait after portrait of her--naked, beautiful, calling to love, to the sweet solace of love. Would this white breast cease heaving? Would these clear eyes grow dim? She died. Trirodov closed the album. For a long time he remained immersed in thought. Suddenly there was a rustling behind the wall, which gradually grew louder--it seemed as if the whole house were alive with the movements of the quiet children. Some one knocked on the door; Kirsha entered, distraught. He said: "Father, let us go into the wood as fast as we can." Trirodov looked at him in silence. Kirsha went on: "Something terrible is happening. There, near the hollow, by the spring." Elisaveta's blue eyes
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