"Well, mother, good-by. I'm going off to the left. Stop in sometimes for a talk and a glass of tea. Good evening, lady. You're pretty hard on your father—of course, that's your business."
"If your son were an ugly man, obnoxious to people, disgusting to you, wouldn't you say the same about him?" Sasha shouted terribly.
"Well, I would," the old man answered after some hesitation.
"That is to say that justice is dearer to you than your son; and to me it's dearer than my father."
Sizov smiled, shaking his head; then he said with a sigh:
"Well, well, you're clever. Good-by. I wish you all good things, and be better to people. Hey? Well, God be with you. Good-by, Nilovna. When you see Pavel tell him I heard his speech. I couldn't understand every bit of it; some things even seemed horrible; but tell him it's true. They've found the truth, yes."
He raised his hat, and sedately turned around the corner of the street.
"He seems to be a good man," remarked Sasha, accompanying him with a smile of her large eyes. "Such people can be useful to the cause. It would be good to hide literature with them, for instance."
It seemed to the mother that to-day the girl's face was softer and kinder than usual, and hearing her remarks about Sizov, she thought:
"Always about the cause. Even to-day. It's burned into her heart."