Unconsciously imitating her father, she now tried to express herself as he did, as much as possible by signs, and her tongue too seemed to move with difficulty.

“Dear one⁠ ⁠… Dearest⁠ ⁠…” Princess Márya could not quite make out what he had said, but from his look it was clear that he had uttered a tender caressing word such as he had never used to her before. “Why didn’t you come in?”

“And I was wishing for his death!” thought Princess Márya.

He was silent awhile.

“Thank you⁠ ⁠… daughter dear!⁠ ⁠… for all, for all⁠ ⁠… forgive!⁠ ⁠… thank you!⁠ ⁠… forgive!⁠ ⁠… thank you!⁠ ⁠…” and tears began to flow from his eyes. “Call Andrúsha!” he said suddenly, and a childish, timid expression of doubt showed itself on his face as he spoke.

He himself seemed aware that his demand was meaningless. So at least it seemed to Princess Márya.