Go away!" "Why are you so shy ?" the mother said pensively.

"You'd better embrace and kiss.

Press hard, hard!" "Do you want to ?" asked Pavel softly.
"We--ell, why not ?" answered the Little Russian, rising.
Pavel dropped on his knees, and grasping each other firmly, they sank for a moment into each other's embrace--two bodies and one soul passionately and evenly burning with a profound feeling of friendship.
Tears ran down the mother's face, but this time they were easy tears.
Drying them she said in embarrassment: "A woman likes to cry.

She cries when she is in sorrow, she cries when she is in joy!" The Little Russian pushed Pavel away, and with a light movement, also wiping his eyes with his fingers, he said: "Enough! When the calves have had their frolic, they must go to the shambles.

What beastly coal this is! I blew and blew on it, and got some of the dust in my eyes." Pavel sat at the window with bent head, and said mildly: "You needn't be ashamed of such tears." The mother walked up to him, and sat down beside him.