“Youhavebeenoh，sogood！“shewhisperssoftly。Asshespeaks，theearthseemstobesinkingundermyfeet。
　　Thenshetearsherselfaway，glancesaroundthecourtyard，anddartstoacornerwhere，underafence，aclumpofherbageissprouting。
　　“Gonow，“sheaddsinawhisper。“Yes，go。“
　　Then，withaconfusedsmile，as，crouchingamongtheherbageasthoughithadbeenasmallcave，sherearrangesherhair，sheadds:
　　“Ithasbefallenso。Ah，me！MayGodgrantuntomeHispardon！“
　　Astonished，feelingthatImustbedreaming，Igazeatherwithgratitude，forIsenseanextraordinarylightnesstobepresentinmybreast，aradiantvoidthroughwhichjoyous，intangiblewordsandthoughtskeepflyingasswallowswheelacrossthefirmament。
　　“Amidagreatsorrow，“sheadds，“evenasmalljoybecomesagreatfelicity。“
　　YetasIglanceatthewoman’sbosom，whereonmoistbeadsarestandinglikedewdropsontheouterearth；asIglanceatthatbosom，whereonthesun’sraysarefindingaroseatereflection，asthoughthebloodwereoozingthroughtheskin，myrapturediesaway，andturnstosorrow，heartache，andtears。Forinmethereisapresentimentthatbeforethelivingjuicewithinthatbosomshallhavebornefruit，itwillhavebecomedriedup。
　　Presently，inatonealmostofself-excuse，andonewhereinthewordssoundalittlesadly，shecontinues:
　　“Timestherearewhensomethingcomespouringintomysoulwhichmakesmybreastsachewiththepainofit。Whatisthereformetodoatsuchmomentssaverevealmythoughtstothemoon，or，inthedaytime，toariver？OhGodinHeaven！AndafterwardsIfeelasashamedofmyself！……Donotlookatmelikethat。Whystareatmewiththoseeyes，eyessoliketheeyesofachild？“
　　“YOURface，rather，islikeachild’s，“Iremark。
　　“What？Isitsostupid？“
　　“Somethinglikethat。“
　　Asshefastensupherbodiceshecontinues:
　　“Soonthetimewillbefiveo’clock，whenthebellwillringforMass。ToMassImustgotoday，forIhaveaprayertooffertotheMotherofGod……Shallyoubeleavingheresoon？“
　　“Yes——assoon，thatistosay，asIhavereceivedbackmypassport。“
　　“Andforwhatdestination？“
　　“ForAlatyr。Andyou？“
　　Shestraightensherattire，andrises。AsshedoessoIperceivethatherhipsarenarrowerthanhershoulders，andthatthroughoutsheiswell-proportionedandsymmetrical。
　　“I？AsyetIdonotknow。True，IhadthoughtofproceedingtoNaltchik，butnow，perhaps，Ishallnotdoso，forallmyfutureisuncertain。“
　　Uponthatsheextendstomeapairofstrong，capablearms，andproposeswithablush:
　　“Shallwekissoncemorebeforewepart？“
　　Sheclaspsmewiththeonearm，andwiththeothermakesthesignofthecross，adding:
　　“Good-bye，dearfriend，andmayChristrequiteyouforallyourwords，forallyoursympathy！“
　　“Thenshallwetraveltogether？“
　　Atthewordsshefreesherself，andsaysfirmly，nay，sternly:
　　“Notso。NeverwouldIconsenttosuchaplan。Ofcourse，hadyoubeenamuzhik——butno。Eventhenwhatwouldhavebeentheuseofit，seeingthatlifeistobemeasured，notbyasinglehour，butbyyears？“
　　And，quietlysmilingmeafarewell，shemovesawaytowardsthehut，whilstI，remainingseated，losemyselfinthoughtsofher。
　　Willsheeverovertakeherquestinlife？ShallIeverbeholdheragain？
　　ThebellforearlyMassbegins，thoughforsometimepastthehamlethasbeenastir，andhumminginasedateandnon-festivefashion。
　　Ienterthehuttofetchmywallet，andfindtheplaceempty。
　　Evidentlythewholepartyhasleftbythegapinthebroken-downwall。
　　Irepair，next，totheAtaman’soffice，whereIreceivebackmypassportbeforesettingouttolookformycompanionsinthesquare。
　　Insimilarfashiontoyesterdaythose“folkfromRussia“arelollingalongsidethechurchyardwall，andalsohaveseatedamongthem，leaninghisbackagainstalog，thefat-jowledyouthfromPenza，withhisbruisedfacelookingevenlargeranduglierthanbefore，forthereasonthathiseyesaresunkenamidpurpleprotuberances。
　　Presentlytherearrivesanewcomerintheshapeofanoldmanwithagreyheadadornedwithafadedvelvetskull-cap，apointedbeard，alean，witheredframe，prominentcheekbones，ared，porous-looking，cunninglyhookednose，andtheeyesofathief。
　　Himaflaxen-hairedyouthfromOreljoinswithasimilaryouthinaccosting。
　　“WhyareYOUtramping？“inquirestheformer。
　　“AndwhyareYOU？“theoldmanretortsinnasaltonesas，lookingatnoone，heproceedstomendthehandleofabatteredmetalteapotwithapieceofwire。
　　“Wearetravellinginsearchofwork，andthereforelivingaswehavebeencommandedtolive。“
　　“ByWHOMcommanded？“
　　“ByGod。Haveyouforgotten？“
　　Carelessly，butsuccinctly，theoldmanretorts:
　　“Takeheedlestuponyou，someday，GodvomitallthedustandlitterwhichyouareraisingbytrampingHisearth！“
　　“How？“criesoneoftheyouths，along-earedstripling。
　　“WerenotChristandHisApostlesalsotramps？“
　　“Yes，CHRIST，“istheoldman’smeaningreplyasheraiseshissharpeyestothoseofhisopponent。“Butwhatareyoutalkingof，youfools？Withwhomareyoudaringtocompareyourselves？
　　TakecarelestIreportyoutotheCossacks！“
　　Ihavelistenedtomanysucharguments，andalwaysfoundthemdistasteful，evenasIhavedonediscussionsregardingthesoul。
　　HenceIfeelinclinedtodepart。
　　Atthismoment，however，Konevmakeshisappearance。Hismienisdejected，andhisbodyperspiring，whilehiseyeskeepblinkingrapidly。
　　“HasanyoneseenTanka——thatwomanfromRiazan？“heinquires。
　　“No？Thenthebitchmusthaveboltedduringthenight。Thefactisthat，overnight，someonegavemeadroportwotodrink，ameredram，butenoughtolaymeasfastasleepasabearinwinter-
　　time。Andinthemeantime，shemusthaverunawaywiththatPenzafellow。“
　　“No，HEishere，“Iremark。
　　“Oh，heis，ishe？Well，aswhathasthecompanyregistereditself？Asasetofikon-painters，Ishouldthink！“
　　Againhebeginstolookanxiouslyabouthim。
　　“Wherecanshehavegotto？“hequeries。
　　“ToMass，maybe。“
　　“0Fcourse！Well，Iamgreatlysmittenwithher。Yes，mywordI
　　am！“
　　Nevertheless，whenMasscomestoanend，and，tothesoundofamerrypealofbells，thewell-dressedlocalCossacksfileoutofchurch，anddistributethemselvesingaudystreamsaboutthehamlet，noTatianamakesherappearance。
　　“ThensheISgone，“saysKonevruefully。“ButI’llfindheryet！I’LLcomeupwithher！“
　　ThatthiswillhappenIdonotfeelconfident。NordoIdesirethatitshould。