They have all left everything behind them, Pasha, and gone into this thing.
It's just like a sacred procession." A great ardent thought burned in her bosom, animating her heart with an exalted feeling of sad, tormenting joy; but she could find no words, and she waved her hands with the pang of muteness.

She looked into her son's face with eyes in which a bright, sharp pain had lit its fires.
"Very well, mother! Forgive me.

I see all now!" he muttered, lowering his head.

Glancing at her with a light smile, he added, embarrassed but happy: "I will not forget this, mother, upon my word." She pushed him from her, and looking into the room she said to Andrey in a good-natured tone of entreaty: "Andriusha, please don't you shout at him so! Of course, you are older than he, and so you----" The Little Russian was standing with his back toward her.

He sang out drolly without turning around to face her: "Oh, oh, oh! I'll bawl at him, be sure! And I'll beat him some day, too." She walked up slowly to him, with outstretched hand, and said: "My dear, dear man!" The Little Russian turned around, bent his head like an ox, and folding his hands behind his back walked past her into the kitchen.