He spoke very quietly. We said nothing of Marie
Ivanovna.
I dressed quickly and on going out found the wagons waiting, some
fifteen or twenty sanitars and Trenchard and Andrey Vassilievitch. The
four of us climbed into one of the wagons and set off. I did not see
Semyonov. Trenchard was pale, there were heavy black lines under his
eyes--but he seemed calm, and he stared in front of him as though he
were absorbed by some concentrated self-control. For the first time in
my experience of him he seemed to me a strong independent character.
We did not speak at all. I could see that Andrey Vassilievitch was
nervous: his eyes were anxious and now and then he moistened his lips
with his tongue. When we had crossed the river and began to climb the
hill I knew that I _hated_ the Forest. It was looking beautiful under
the early morning sun, its green so delicate and clear, its soft
shadows so cool, its birds singing so carelessly, the silver birches,
lines of light against the dark spaces; but this was all to me now as
though it had been arranged by some ironic hand.
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