Onthepresentoccasionhehasarrivedonthesceneincompanywithtwowomen。Oneofthem，agedabouttwenty，isgentle-
　　looking，plump，andglassyofeye，withamouthperpetuallyhalf-
　　open，sothatthefacelookslikethatofanimbecile，andthoughtheexposedteethofitslowerportionmayseemtobesetinasmile，youwillperceive，shouldyoupeerintothemotionlesseyesundertheoverhangingbrows，thatshehasrecentlybeenweepingintheterrified，hystericalfashionofapersonofweakintellect。
　　IhavecomeherewiththatmanandotherstrangersthusIheardhernarrateinlow，queruloustonesaswithastumpyfingersherearrangedthefadedhairunderheryellowandgreenscarf。
　　Afat-facedyouthwithhighcheek-bonesandthesmalleyesofaMongolherenudgedher，andsaidcarelessly:
　　“Youmean，rather，thatyourownmanhascastyouoff。Probablyhewastheonlymanyoueversaw。“
　　“Aye，“Konevdrawledthoughtfullyashefeltinhiswallet。
　　Nowadaysfolkneedthinklittleofdesertingawoman，sinceinthisyearofgracewomenarenogoodatall。“
　　Uponthisthewomanfrowned——thenblinkedhereyestimidly，andwouldhaveopenedherlipstoreply，butthathercompanioninterruptedherbysayinginabrisk，incisivetone:
　　“Donotlistentothoserascals！“
　　Thewoman’scompanion，somefiveorsixyearshersenior，hasafaceexceptionalintheconstantchangeandmovementofitsgreatdarkeyesasatonemomenttheywithdrawthemselvesfromthestreetoftheCossackhamlet，togazefixedlyandgravelytowardsthesteppewhereitliesscouredwiththescuddingbreeze，andatanothermomentfalltoscanningthefacesofthepersonsaroundher，and，atanother，frownanxiously，orsendasmileflittingacrosshercomelylipsasshebendsherhead，untilherfeaturesareconcealed。Next，theheadisraisedagain，fortheeyeshavetakenonanotherphase，andbecomedilatedwithinterest，whileasharpfurrowisformingbetweentheslendereyebrows，andthefinelymouldedlipsandtrimmouthhavecompressedthemselvestogether，andthethinnostrilsofthestraightnosearesnuffingtheairlikethoseofahorse。
　　Infact，inthewomanthereissomethingnon-peasantinitsorigin。Forinstance，letonebutwatchhersharplyclickingfeetas，inwalking，theypeepfromunderherblueskirt，andonewillperceivethattheyarenotthesplayedfeetofavillager，but，rather，feetarchedofinstep，andatonetimeaccustomedtothewearingofboots。Or，asthewomansitsengagedinembroideringabluebodicewithapatternofwhitepeas，onewillperceivethatshehaslongbeenaccustomedtoplyingtheneedlesodexterously；swiftlydothesmall，sunburnthandsflyinandoutunderthetumbledmaterial，eagerlythoughthewindmaystrivetowrestitfromher。Again，asshesitsbendingoverherwork，onewilldescrythrougharentinherbodiceasmall，firmbosomwhichmightalmosthavebeenthatofavirgin，wereitnotforthefactthataprojectingteatproclaimsthatsheisawomanpreparingtosuckleaninfant。Inshort，asshesitsamonghercompanionsshelookslikeafragmentofcopperflungintothemidstofsomerustyoldscrap-iron。
　　MostofthepeopleinwhosesocietyIwanderneitherrisetogreatheightsnorsinktogreatdepths，butareascolourlessasdust，andwearisomelyinsignificant。HenceisitthatwheneverI
　　chanceuponapersonwhosesoulIcanprobeandexploreforthoughtsunfamiliartomeandwordsnothithertoheardI
　　congratulatemyself，seeingthatthoughitismydesiretoseelifegrowmorefairandexalted，andIyearntobringaboutthatend，thereconstantlyrevealsitselftomemerelyavistaofsharpanglesanddarkspacesandpoorcrushed，defraudedpeople。
　　Yes，neverdoIseektoprojectasparkofmyownfireintothedarknessofmyneighbour’ssoulbutIseethatsparkdisappear，becomelost，inachaosofdumbvacuity。
　　HencethewomanofwhomIhavejustspokenparticularlyexcitesmyfancy，andleadsmetoattemptdivinationsofherpast，untilIfindmyselfevolvingastorywhichisnotonlyofvastcomplexity，buthasgotpaintedintoitmerelythecoloursofmyownhopesandaspirations。Itisastorynecessarilyillusory，necessarilyboundtomakelifeseemevenworsethanbefore。YetitisagrievousthingNEVERtodistortactuality，NEVERtoenvelopactualityinthewrappingsofone’simagination……
　　Closinghiseyes，andpickinghiswordswithdifficulty，atall，fairpeasantdrawlsinthick，glueliketones:
　　“’Verywell，’Isaid:andoffweset。OnthewayIsaidagain:
　　’Gubin，thoughyoumaynotliketobetoldso，youarenobetterthanathief。’“
　　Theo’sutteredbythispeasantareuniformlyroundandfirm——theyrollforwardasacartwheeltrundlesalongahot，dustycountryroad。
　　Theyouthwiththehighcheek-bonesfixesthewhitesofhisporcineeyeseyesthepupilsofwhichareasindeterminateastheeyesofablindmanuponthewomaninthegreenscarf。
　　Then，having，likeacalf，pluckedandchewedsomestalksofthewitheredgrass，herollsupthesleevesofhisshirt，bendsonefistintothecrookoftheelbow，andsaystoKonevwithaglanceatthewell-developedmuscle:
　　“Shouldyoucaretohitme？“
　　“No，youcanhityourself。Hityourselfoverthehead。Then，perhaps，you’llgrowwiser。“
　　StolidlytheyoungfellowlooksatKonev，andinquires:
　　“Howdoyouknowmetobeafool？“
　　“Becauseyourpersonalitytellsmeso。“
　　“Eh？“criestheyoungfellowtruculentlyasheraiseshimselftoakneelingposture。“HowknowyouwhatIam？“
　　“IhavebeentoldwhatyouarebytheGovernorofyourprovince。“
　　Theyoungfellowopenshismouth，andstaresatKonev。Thenheasks:
　　“TowhatprovincedoIbelong？“
　　“Ifyouyourselfhaveforgottentowhatprovinceyoubelong，youhadbettertryandloosenyourwits。“
　　“Lookhere。IfIweretohityou，I——“
　　Thewomanwhohasbeensewingdropsherworktoshrugoneroundedshoulderasthoughshewerecold，andaskconciliatorily:
　　“Well，WHATprovincedoyoubelongto？“
　　“I？“theyoungfellowre-echoesashesubsidesontohisheels。
　　“IbelongtoPenza。Whydoyouask？“
　　“Ohnevermindwhy。“
　　Presently，withastrangelyyouthfullaugh，thewomanaddsinamurmur:
　　“IaskbecauseItoobelongtothatprovince。“
　　“Andtowhichcanton？“
　　“TothatofPenza。“Inthewoman’stoneisatouchofpride。
　　Theyoungfellowsquatsdownbeforeher，asbeforeawoodfire，stretchesouthishands，andsaysinaningratiatingvoice:
　　“Whatafineplaceisourcantonaltown！Whatchurchesandshopsandstonehousesthereareinit！Infact，oneshopsellsamachineonwhichyoucanplayanythingyoulike，anysortofatune！“
　　“Aswellas，probably，thefool，“commentsKonevinanundertone，thoughtheyoungfellowistooenthralledwiththememoryoftheamenitiesofhiscantonalcapitaltonoticetheremark。Next，smackinghislips，andchewinghiswords，hecontinuesinamurmur:
　　“Inthosestonehouses。“
　　Herethewomandropshersewingasecondtimetoinquire:“Isthereaconventthere？“
　　“Aconvent？“
　　Andtheyoungfellowpausesuncouthlytoscratchhisneck。Onlyafterawhiledoesheanswer:
　　“Aconvent？Well，Idonotknow，foronlyonce，totellthetruth，haveIbeeninthetown，andthatwaswhensomeofusfaminefolkweresettoajobofroadmaking。“
　　“Well，well！“gaspsKonev，asherisesandtakeshisdeparture。
　　Thevagabonds，huddledagainstthechurchyardwall，looklikelitterdriventhitherbythesteppewind，andasliabletobewhirledawayagainwheneverthewindshallchoose。Threeofthepartyaresleeping，andtheremaindereithermendingtheirclothing，orkillingfleas，orlethargicallymunchingbreadcollectedatthewindowsoftheCossacks’huts。Ifindthesightofthemwearymeasmuchasdoestheyoungfellowsfatuousbabble。Also，Ifindthatwhenevertheelderofthetwowomenliftshereyesfromherwork，andhalfsmiles，thefainthalf-
　　smileinquestionvexesmeintensely。Consequently，IendbydepartinginKonev’swake。
　　Guardingtheentranceofthechurchyard，fourpoplartreesstanderect，savewhen，asthewindharriesthem，theybowalternatelytothearid，dustyearthandtowardsthedimvistaoftow-