why, at the same time as Ilyin, she looked hurriedly right and left to see that they were not observed.
The fir-trees and the clouds stood motionless, and gazed at them severely like broken-down masters who see something going on, but have been bribed not to report to the head. The sentry on the embankment stood like a stick and seemed to be staring at the bench. "Let him look!" thought Sophia Pietrovna.
"But . . . But listen," she said at last with despair in her voice. "What will this lead to? What will happen afterwards?"
"I don't know. I don't know," he began to whisper, waving these unpleasant questions aside.
The hoarse, jarring whistle of a railway engine became audible. This cold, prosaic sound of the everyday world made Madame Loubianzev start.
"It's time, I must go," she said, getting up quickly. "The train is coming. Andrey is arriving. He will want his dinner."
Sophia Pietrovna turned her blazing cheeks to the embankment. First the engine came slowly into sight, after it the carriages. It was not a bungalow train, but a goods train. In a long row, one after another like the days of man's life, the cars drew past the white background of the church, and there seemed to be no end to them.
But at last the train disappeared, and the end car with the guard and the lighted lamps
