“It is a sin to weep, dear lady,” said the nurse; and, going up to the little corpse, with a folded handkerchief she wiped away the tears the mother had left on Kóstya’s waxen forehead.

“Tears will sadden his little soul! It is well with him now.⁠ ⁠… He is a sinless angel. Had he lived, who knows what might have become of him?”

“Yes, yes!⁠ ⁠… But, still, it hurts, it hurts!” said the mother.