All I had felt and gone through was probably written on my face when I got
home. My mother abruptly drew herself up directly I went into her room, and
looked with such urgent inquiry at me, that, after an unsuccessful attempt
to explain, I ended by holding out the ring to her in silence. She turned
fearfully white, her eyes opened extraordinarily and looked dead, like
_those_ eyes; she uttered a faint cry, snatched the ring, reeled, fell
on my breast, and fairly swooned away, her head falling back, and her
blank wide-open eyes staring at me. I threw both my arms about her, and
standing where I was, without moving, told her slowly, in a subdued voice,
everything, without the slightest concealment: my dream, and the meeting,
and everything, everything.... She heard me to the end without uttering a
single word, only her bosom heaved more and more violently, and her eyes
suddenly flashed and sank. Then she put the ring on her third finger, and,
moving away a little, began getting her cape and hat. I asked her where she
was going. She lifted eyes full of surprise upon me, and tried to answer,
but her voice failed her. She shuddered several times, rubbed her hands, as
though she were trying to warm them, and at last said, ‘Let us go there at
once.’
‘Where, mother?’
‘Where he is lying ... I want to see ... I want to know ... I will
know....’
I endeavoured to persuade her not to go; but she almost fell into a nervous
attack. I saw it was impossible to oppose her wish, and we set off.