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Standing still, and looking at the tops of the aspen trees waving

in the wind, with their freshly washed, brightly shining leaves

in the cold sunshine, she knew that they would not forgive her,

that everyone and everything would be merciless to her now as was

that sky, that green. And again she felt that everything was

split in two in her soul. "I mustn't, mustn't think," she said to

herself. "I must get ready. To go where? When? Whom to take with

me? Yes, to Moscow by the evening train. Annushka and Seryozha,

and only the most necessary things. But first I must write to

them both." She went quickly indoors into her boudoir, sat down

at the table, and wrote to her husband:-"After what has happened,

I cannot remain any longer in your house. I am going away, and

taking my son with me. I don't know the law, and so I don't know

with which of the parents the son should remain; but I take him

with me because I cannot live without him. Be generous, leave him

to me."