snow, shouted something in her ear. She started up, recovered her wits, and perceived that they were approaching a station, and the man was the conductor. She bade Annushka give her the pelerine which she had laid aside and her handkerchief, and, having put them on, she went to the door.
"Do you wish to go out?" asked Annushka.
"Yes; I want to get a breath of fresh air. It is very hot here."
And she opened the door. The snow-storm and the wind rushed in to meet her and disputed the door with her. And this seemed to her very jolly. The storm seemed to be waiting for her, it gayly whistled and was eager to carry her away; but she clung to the cold railing with one hand, and, holding her dress, she stepped out on the platform, and left the car. The wind was fierce on the steps, but on the platform, under the shelter of the station, it was calmer, and she found a genuine pleasure in filling her lungs with the frosty air. Standing near the car she watched the platform and the station gleaming with lights.
CHAPTER XXX
A furious snow-storm was raging, and whistling among the wheels of the carriages, around the columns, and into the corners of the station. The carriages, the pillars, the people, everything visible, were covered on one side with snow, and it was increasing momently. Once in a while there would be a lull, but then again it blew with such gusts that it seemed impossible to make way against it. Meantime a few people were running hither and thither, talking gayly, opening and shutting the great doors of the station, and making the platform planks creak under their feet. The flitting shadow of a man passed rapidly by her feet, and she heard the blows of a hammer falling on the iron.
"Send off the telegram," cried an angry voice on the
