"Se - Se - Se-Ser --" she repeated without moving her lips. "Ser--"

"Dear mother!"

The colonel strode forward, and all quivering in every fold of his
coat, in every wrinkle of his face, not understanding how terrible he
himself looked in his death-like whiteness, in his heroic, desperate
firmness. He said to his wife:

"Be silent! Don't torture him! Don't torture him! He has to die! Don't
torture him!"

Frightened, she had already become silent, but he still shook his
clenched fists before him and repeated:

"Don't torture him!"

Then he stepped back", placed his trembling hands behind his back, and
loudly, with an expression of forced calm, asked with pale lips:

"When?"

"To-morrow morning," answered Sergey, his lips also pale.

The mother looked at the ground, chewing her lips, as if she did not
hear anything. And continuing to chew, she uttered these simple words,
strangely, as though they dropped like lead:

"Ninochka told me to kiss you, Seryozhenka."