"My mother! My mother, my angel, my adored angel mother," and Dolokhov pressed Rostov`s hand and burst into tears.

‘The holy man, who had often urged the same point before, but had never met with so direct a repulse, walked some little distance behind, with his eyes bent upon the earth, and his lips moving AS IF in prayer. As the sisters reached the porch, he quickened his pace, and called upon them to stop.