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crying a letter has come. They run indoors, wife, mistress, Anna, the child. Wassily has the letter. News of Ivan. Terror becomes joy, he is returning. They bow down and cross themselves. They turn on Anna: Now, you with your brat, what will he say now he will find out ? We are covered in shame.'' They moan. The mother screams, alas that my son should return to this." Anna is driven forth, broken by their violence. She takes the child with her. Wassilissa sees her from the steps of the Home, crying and wretched. They sit together on the steps. Do not worrv, Wassilissa comforts her, directly the home is finished there will be a place for your child.
The vSpring Festival. Swings, roundabouts, dancing, merrymaking. Anna, the mistress, the wife, are all getting ready in their festival clothes. They sweep out, each tossing her head at the suffering girl. Anna plaiting her hair, goes to the window and sees Ivan returning. Panic overtakes her, she runs away and hides herself in her room. The family come running to Ivan. Where is Anna? The frozen silence is broken by the mother. She has brought shame upon the house. Their hatred is triumphant, and tears of self pity stream down their cheeks. Poor Ivan, poor, poor Ivan. The shocked youth finds Anna in her room, half-dressed, terrified and joyous and tragic. There indeed is the child. Here, too, his posturing is new. In his rejection of Anna he gives himself to his family, becomes one with their baseness. War-acquired. War has not enobled, it hsiS debased the men.
The festival is at its height. Maidens throw wreaths into the water — omens for their future. Unseen by the merry
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