go..."

They sang Eternal Memory through, blew out the candles, and the little
blue streams spread in the air, blue from frankincense. The priest read
through the farewell prayer; and afterwards, in the general silence,
scooped up some sand with the little shovel handed to him by the
psalmist, and cast it cross-wise upon the corpse, on top of the gauze.
And at this he was uttering great words, filled with the austere, sad
inevitability of a mysterious universal law: "The world is the Lord's,
and its fulfillment the universe, and all that dwelleth therein."

The girls escorted their dead mate to the very cemetery. The road
thither intersected the very entrance to Yamskaya Street. It would have
been possible to turn to the left through it, and that would have been
almost half as short; but dead people were not usually carried through
Yamskaya.

Nevertheless, out of almost all the doors their inmates poured out
towards the cross roads, in whatever they had on: in slippers upon bare
feet, in night gowns, with kerchiefs upon their heads; they crossed
themselves, sighed, wiped their eyes with their handkerchiefs and the
edges of their jackets.

The weather cleared up ... The cold sun shone brightly from a cold sky
of radiant blue enamel; the last grass showed its green, the withered
leaves on the trees glowed, showing their pink and gold ... And in the
crystal clear, cold air solemnly, and mournfully reverberated the
sonorous sounds: "Holy God, Holy Almighty, Holy Everliving, have mercy
upon us!" And with what flaming thirst for life, not to be satiated by
aught; with what longing for the momentary--transient like unto a
dream--joy and beauty of being; with what horror before the eternal
silence of death, sounded the ancient refrain of John Damascene!

Then a brief requiem at the grave, the dull thud of the earth against
the lid of the coffin ... a small fresh hillock ...

"And here's the end!" said Tamara to her comrades, when they were left
alone. "Oh, well, girls--an hour earlier, an hour later! ... I'm sorry
for Jennka! ... Horribly sorry! ... We won't ever find such another.
And yet, my children, it's far better for her in her pit than for us in
ours ... Well, let's cross ourselves for the last time--and home! ..."

And when they all were already nearing their house, Tamara suddenly
uttered pensively the strange, ominous words:

"And we won't be long together without her: soon we will be scattered,
by the wind