"Don't tell. I'll be helpful to you," she urged him, kindly stroking his cheek.
She rose, looked around, and spoke to him in a businesslike way:
"Dress yourself. It's cold. And the room must be put in order a little. Go, get dressed."
When Yevsey returned he saw the master's body completely covered with a blanket. Rayisa remained as she had been, half dressed with bare shoulders. This touched him. They set the room to rights, working without haste and looking at each other now and then silently and gravely.
The boy felt that this silent nocturnal activity in the close room bound him more firmly to the woman, who was just as solitary as himself, and like him, knew terror. He tried to remain as near her as possible, and avoided looking at the master's body.
It began to dawn. Rayisa listened to the sound of the waking house and city. She sighed, and beckoned to Yevsey.
"Now, go lie down and sleep. I will wake you soon, and send you with a note to Dorimedont Lukin. Go!" She led him to the chest upon which he slept and felt the bedding with her hand. "Oh, what a hard bed you have!"
When he had lain down, she seated herself beside him, and stroked his head and shoulders with her soft smooth hand, while she spoke in a gentle chant.
"Give him the note. And if he asks you how it happened, tell him you don't know. Tell him you were asleep and didn't see anything."
She was silent, and knit her brows. Overcome by exhaustion Yevsey, warmed by the woman's body and lulled by her even speech, began to drowse.