The lights of the lanterns everywhere had gone out, and only two were still burning; a yellow little lantern was still burning brightly, and the other, a yellow one, too, was already beginning to blink.

And though there was no wind, that lantern quivered from its own blinking, and everything seemed to quiver slightly.

Yura was about to get up to go into the arbour and there begin life anew, with an imperceptible transition from the old, when suddenly he heard voices in the arbour.

His mother and the wrong Yura Mikhailovich, the officer, were talking.

The right Yura grew petrified in his place; his heart stood still; and his breathing ceased.
Mamma said: "Stop.