Those eyes lit up the whole of her thin, sickly face and made it beautiful.

Her brother would have taken the icon, but she stopped him.

Andrew understood, crossed himself and kissed the icon.

There was a look of tenderness, for he was touched, but also a gleam of irony on his face.
"Thank you, my dear." She kissed him on the forehead and sat down again on the sofa.

They were silent for a while.
"As I was saying to you, Andrew, be kind and generous as you always used to be.