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174
LA CIGALE
“Duimoff!” she cried loudly. “Duimoff!”
She wished to explain to him that the past was but a mistake; that all was not yet lost; that life might yet be happy and beautiful; that he was a rare, an uncommon, a great man; that she would worship him from this day forth, and pray, and torture herself with holy dread. . . .
“Duimoff!” she cried, tapping his shoulder, refusing to believe that he would never awaken. “Duimoff! Duimoff!”
But in the drawing-room Korosteleff spoke to the maid-servant.
“Don't ask silly questions! Go at once to the church watchman, and get the women's address. They will wash the body, and lay it out, and do all that's wanted.”
