My mother was standing by the table. She was pale and there was a
frightened and despairing look in her eyes.
She gazed at me for a moment as if in terror. Then she sank down upon a
chair and hid her face in her hands.
"Is that _my_ boy--is that _my_ boy?..."
It sounded like a heart-broken wailing. I saw that she was sobbing. I
perceived that my face had frightened her; the empty sleeve too.
I went over and knelt down beside her, putting my arm round her waist
and my head in her lap.