body is excited; everybody is
clamoring, and prices are mounting higher and higher. As a consequence
the value of men is depreciating. And there is not a single,
conciliatory voice heard, not one!"

"Perfectly true!" said the retired military man. "It's monstrous!
What's wanted is a voice, a firm voice to cry, 'Silence!' Yes, that's
what we want--a firm voice!"

The conversation became more general and animated. Everybody was in a
hurry to give his opinion about life; but all spoke in a half-subdued
voice, and the mother noticed a tone of hostility in all, which was new
to her. At home they spoke differently, more intelligibly, more
simply, and more loudly.

The fat warden with a square red beard called out her name, looked her
over from head to foot, and telling her to follow him, walked off
limping. She followed him, and felt like pushing him to make him go
faster. Pavel stood in a small room, and on seeing his mother smiled
and put out his hand to her. She grasped it, laughed, blinked swiftly,
and at a loss for words merely asked softly:

"How are you? How are you?"

"Compose yourself, mother." Pavel pressed her hand.

"It's all right! It's all right!"

"Mother," said the warden, fetching a sigh, "suppose you move away from
each other a bit. Let there be some distance between you." He yawned
aloud.

Pavel asked the mother about her health and about home. She waited for
some other questions, sought them in her son's eyes, but could not find
them. He was calm as usual, although his face had grown paler, and his
eyes seemed larger.

"Sasha sends you her regards," she said. Pavel's eyelids quivered and
fell. His face became softer and brightened with a clear, open smile.
A poignant bitterness smote the mother's heart.

"Will they let you out soon?" she inquired in a tone of sudden injury
and agitation. "Why have they put you in prison? Those papers and
pamphlets have appeared in the factory again, anyway."

Pavel's eyes flashed with delight.

"Have they? When? Many of them?"

"It is forbidden to talk about this subject!" the warden lazily
announced. "You may talk only of family matters."

"And isn't this a family matter?" retorted the mother.

"I don't know. I only know it's forbidden. You may talk about his
wash and underwear and food, but nothing else!" insisted the warden,
his voice, however, expressing utter indifference.

"All right," said Pavel. "Keep to domestic affair