And in the midst of that
chaos I felt as if I were a thing apart from myself. My head ached,
and yet it felt as if it did not belong to me. . . . Finally I
thought I felt mother bathing me; a delicious feeling of moisture
spread over my flesh, and my headache disappeared. Then I felt a
warm, soft hand pass over my forehead, cheeks, and neck. . . .
I opened my eyes, the first time since I lost consciousness, and I
exclaimed:
"Marusya!?"
"Yes, yes," said she, with a smile, while her eyes brimmed with
tears, "it is I." And behind her was another face:
"Anna?!"
"Rest, rest," said they, warningly. "Thanks to God, the crisis is
over."
I doubted, I thought it was all a dream. But it was no dream. It
was all very simple: Anna and Marusya had enlisted and were serving
as volunteer nurses at the military hospital, and I had known
nothing of it.
"Marusya," said I, "please tell me how do I happen to be here?"
Then she began to tell me how they brought me there, and took me
down from the wagon as insensible as a log. But she could not
finish her story; she began to choke with tears, and Anna finished
what Marusya wanted to tell me.
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