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-