Pavel stood in a small room, and on seeing his mother smiled and put out his hand to her.

She grasped it, laughed, blinked swiftly, and at a loss for words merely asked softly: "How are you?
How are you ?" "Compose yourself, mother." Pavel pressed her hand.
"It's all right! It's all right!" "Mother," said the warden, fetching a sigh, "suppose you move away from each other a bit.

Let there be some distance between you." He yawned aloud.
Pavel asked the mother about her health and about home.

She waited for some other questions, sought them in her son's eyes, but could not find them.

He was calm as usual, although his face had grown paler, and his eyes seemed larger.
"Sasha sends you her regards," she said.