compassionate tone.

"'Sharp is thy glance.... What! doth it delight thee?... Spread this
kerchief over Nóvgorod.... 'Twill be a rich pall!'... she added with
a smile.

"'Let me in! let me in!... I cannot bear it.... Let me go in to her!'
cried Andrióusha, bursting into tears.

"On the Great Prince's countenance was mingled compassion and
vexation. He, however, lifted the latch of the door, and let the son
of Aristotle pass in to Borétzkaia.

"Andrea kissed her hand. Borétzkaia uttered not a word; she
mournfully shook her head, and her warm tears fell upon the boy's
face.

"'Ask him how many years she can live,' said the Great Prince to
Aristotle, in a whisper.

"'It is much, much, if she live three months; but, perhaps, 'twill be
only till spring,' answered Antony. 'No medicine can save her: that
blood is a sure herald of death.'

"This reply was translated to Iván Vassílievitch in as low a tone as
possible, that Borétzkaia might not hear it; but she waved her hand,
and said calmly--'I knew it long ago'....

"'Hearken, Márpha Isákovna, if thou wilt, I will give thee thy
liberty, and send thee into another town.'