She smiled at him caressingly.
"I am cold," said Sasha, softly, and quivered in every limb.
Foma laughed gaily at the sound of her voice, lifted her into his arms and quickly, almost running, dashed across the rafts to the shore.

She was wet and cold, but her breathing was hot, it burned Foma's cheek and filled his breast with wild joy.
"You wanted to drown me ?" said she, firmly, pressing close to him.

"It was rather too early.

Wait!" "How well you have done it," muttered Foma, as he ran.
"You're a fine, brave fellow! And your device wasn't bad, either, though you seem to be so peaceable." "And they are still roaring there, ha! ha!" "The devil take them! If they are drowned, we'll be sent to Siberia," said the woman, as though she wanted to console and encourage him by this.

She began to shiver, and the shudder of her body, felt by Foma, made him hasten his pace.
Sobs and cries for help followed them from the river.