casement.

But on this morning as Serge looked from his window his
eyes saw a figure behind the barred window opposite to
him. It was the figure of a girl, and she was kneeling
on the floor and she was in prayer, for Serge could see
that her hands were before her face. And as he looked
all his blood ran warm to his head, and his limbs trembled
even though he could not see the girl's face. Then the
girl rose from her knees and turned her face towards the
bars, and Serge knew that it was Olga Ileyitch and that
she had seen and known him.

Then he came down the stairs and Madame Vasselitch was
there undoing the shutters and removing the nails from
the window casing.

"What have you seen, little son?" she asked, and her
voice was gentle, for the face of Serge was pale and his
eyes were wide.

But Serge did not answer the question.

"What is that house?" he said. "The great building with
the bars that you call the house of the dead?"

"Shall I tell you, little son," said Madame Vasselitch,
and she looked at him, still thinking. "Yes," she said,
"he shall know.