Almost instantly an earthen, deathly blue, without first changing into pallor, showed through the color of his cheeks.

He clutched his downy hair, tore their roots painfully with his fingers, whose tips had turned white.

But the joy of life and spring was stronger, and a few minutes later his frank young face was again yearning toward the spring sky.

The young, pale girl, known only by the name of Musya, was also looking in the same direction, at the sky.

She was younger than Golovin, but she seemed older in her gravity and in the darkness of her open, proud eyes.