We must keep up, we must, we must." Vasily was silent.

But when it seemed that he would no longer say anything, a dull, belated, terribly remote answer came--like an answer from the grave: "I'm all right.

I hold my own." Then he repeated: "I hold my own." Werner was delighted.
"That's the way, that's the way.

Good boy.

That's the way." But his eyes met Vasily's dark, wearied glance fixed upon him from the distance and he thought with instant sorrow: "From where is he looking?
From where is he speaking ?" and with profound tenderness, with which people address a grave, he said: "Vasya, do you hear?
I love you very much." "So do I love you very much," answered the tongue, moving with difficulty.
Suddenly Musya took Werner by the hand and with an expression of surprise, she said like an actress on the stage, with measured emphasis: "Werner, what is this?
You said, 'I love'?
You never before said 'I love' to anybody.