In him there was a conflict of thought and feeling; he understood her, he loved her, he judged her, she thought, recalling his words and his eyes.
And she was forever--not physically only but spiritually--divided from him, and it was impossible to set this right.
She gave the baby back to the nurse, let her go, and opened the locket in which there was Seryozha's portrait when he was almost of the same age as the girl.
She got up, and, taking off her hat, took up from a little table an album in which there were photographs of her son at different ages.
She wanted to compare them, and began taking them out of the album.