Chapter 13 No.13

The sunbeam which wakes Mascha every morning lies broad and full on the carpet in her bedroom, creeps caressingly on her pillow, strokes her round white cheeks, but she sleeps soundly and sweetly, like a very young child who sleeps heavily after a great grief.

There is a knock at her door, first gentle, then louder. "Maschenka, my little dove, i