“Come along; what are you looking at?” said Kozeltsóf to Volódya, who stood with raised brows and a look of suffering on his face, unable to tear his eyes from the wounded. “Come now!”

Volódya followed his brother, but still kept looking back and repeating unconsciously, “O my God! my God!”

“I suppose he has not been here long?” the Sister remarked to Kozeltsóf, with reference to Volódya, who followed them along the corridor with exclamations and sighs.

“He has only just come.”

The pretty Sister looked at Volódya, and suddenly began to cry.

“My God! my God! when will it end?” she said, with despair in her voice.