It was all in a jumble, all topsyturvy. And in the midst of that chaos I felt as if I were a thing apart from myself. My head ached, and yet it felt as if it did not belong to me. . . . Finally I thought I felt mother bathing me; a delicious feeling of moisture spread over my flesh, and my headache disappeared. Then I felt a warm, soft hand pass over my forehead, cheeks, and neck. . . .
I opened my eyes, the first time since I lost consciousness, and I exclaimed:
"Marusya!?"
"Yes, yes," said she, with a smile, while her eyes brimmed with tears, "it is I." And behind her was another face:
"Anna?!"
"Rest, rest," said they, warningly. "Thanks to God, the crisis is over."
I doubted, I thought it was all a dream. But it was no dream. It was all very simple: Anna and Marusya had enlisted and were serving as volunteer nurses at the military hospital, and I had known nothing of it.
"Marusya," said I, "please tell me how do I happen to be here?"
Then she began to tell me how they brought me there, and took me down from the wagon as insensible as a log. But she could not finish her story; she began to choke with tears, and Anna finished what Marusya wanted to tell me.
I turned to Marusya: