Then the colonel stood up, assumed a studied pose, placing his right hand upon the border of his coat.

Sergey sat for an instant, looked closely upon the wrinkled face of his mother and then jumped up.
"Be seated, Seryozhenka," begged the mother.
"Sit down, Sergey," repeated the father.
They became silent.

The mother smiled.
"How we have petitioned for you, Seryozhenka! Father--" "You should not have done that, mother----" The colonel spoke firmly: "We had to do it, Sergey, so that you should not think your parents had forsaken you." They became silent again.

It was terrible for them to utter even a word, as though each word in the language had lost its individual meaning and meant but one thing--Death.

Sergey looked at his father's coat, which smelt of benzine, and thought: "They have no servant now, consequently he must have cleaned it himself.