And they all looked so simple, so strangely near to one another, yet so lone in life.
Early next morning the mother went to Marya Korsunova.

The peddler, noisy and greasy as usual, greeted her with friendly sympathy.
"You are grieving ?" Marya asked, patting the mother on the back.

"Now, don't.

They just took him, carried him off.

Where is the calamity?
There is no harm in it.