Chapter 97: Darkness

Darkness A young peasant, with white eyebrows and eyelashes and broad cheekbones, in a torn sheepskin and big black felt overboots, waited till the Zemstvo doctor had finished seeing his patients and came out to go home from the hospital; then he went up to him, diffidently. “Please, your honour,” he said. “What do you want?” The young man passed the palm of his hand up and over his nose, looked at the sky, and then answered: “Please, your honour. … You’ve got my brother Vaska t…