Sevastopol
he wounded, and permeated with that frightful and disgusting hospit
an assistant surgeon, who was following her; the other, a very pretty girl of twenty, with a pale and delicate little fair face, gazed in an amiably helple
ether they knew where Martzoff was-the man w
t, did he not?" inquired the el
a com
young sister. "Here, this way," and she approac
uplifted eyebrows and somewhat suffering expression of countenance, could not
till continuing to gaze about him, h
God! Ah,
ister of Kozeltzoff, pointing at Volodya, who, groan
but just
e officer's hut. Martzoff was lying on his back, with his muscular arms, bare to the elbow, thrown over his head, and with the expression on his yellow face of a man who is clenching his
h her slender, delicate fingers, on one of which Volodya noticed a gold ring, and
hat is your name? Excuse me," he said, turning to Kozeltzoff.... "Ah, yes, I beg your pardon! one forgets everything here," he said, when the latt
ho has just arrived fr
said, with a frown. "Ah, how painful it is
face with his hands, continuing to m
in a whisper, while the tears stood i
he Nikolaevsky battery, they seemed to have come to a tacit understanding not to subject themselves to
r. "However, Nikolaeff will conduct you to the Korabelnaya,
t this last leave-takin