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"What for? You don't believe?..." she whispered softly and as it

were breathlessly.

"Read! I want you to," he persisted. "You used to read to

Lizaveta."

Sonia opened the book and found the place. Her hands were

shaking, her voice failed her. Twice she tried to begin and could

not bring out the first syllable.

"Now a certain man was sick named Lazarus of Bethany..." she

forced herself at last to read, but at the third word her voice

broke like an overstrained string. There was a catch in her

breath.