"You--" Sergey began again. Suddenly his face wrinkled pitiably,
childishly, and his eyes filled with tears immediately. Through the
sparkling gleams of his tears he looked closely into the white face of
his father, whose eyes had also filled.

"You, father, are a noble man!"

"What is that? What are you saying?" said the colonel, surprised. And
then suddenly, as if broken in two, he fell with his head upon his
son's shoulder. He had been taller than Sergey, but now he became
short, and his dry, downy head lay like a white ball upon his son's
shoulder. And they kissed silently and passionately: Sergey kissed the
silvery white hair, and the old man kissed the prisoner's garb.

"And I?" suddenly said a loud voice.

They looked around. Sergey's mother

92

The Seven

was standing, her head thrown back, looking at them angrily, almost
with contempt.

"What is it, mother?" cried the colonel.

"And I?" she said, shaking her head with insane intensity. "You
kiss-and I? You men! Yes? And I? And I?"