"From everywhere come complaints of not enough literature, and we still cannot get a good printing establishment. Liudmila is wearing herself out. She'll get sick if we don't see that she gets assistance."
"And Vyesovshchikov?" asked Sofya.
"He cannot live in the city. He won't be able to go to work until he can enter the new printing establishment. And one man is still needed for it."
"Won't I do?" the mother asked quietly.
All three looked at her in silence for a short while.
"No, it's too hard for you, Nilovna," said Nikolay. "You'll have to live outside the city and stop your visits to Pavel, and in general——"
With a sigh the mother said:
"For Pasha it won't be a great loss. And so far as I am concerned these visits, too, are a torment; they tear out my heart. I'm not allowed to speak of anything; I stand opposite my son like a fool. And they look into my mouth and wait to see something come out that oughtn't."
Sofya groped for the mother's hand under the table and pressed it warmly with her thin fingers. Nikolay looked at the mother fixedly while explaining to her that she would have to serve in the new printing establishment as a protection to the workers.
"I understand," she said. "I'll be a cook. I'll be able to do it; I can imagine what's needed."