Half an hour passed. The baby began to cry. Akoulína rose and gave it the breast. Weeping no longer, but resting her thin, though still handsome, face on her hand, and fixing her eyes on the last flickerings of the candle, she sat thinking why she had married, wondering why so many soldiers were needed, and also how she could pay out the joiner’s wife.
She heard her husband’s footsteps; and, wiping her tears, got up to let him pass. Polikéy entered like a conqueror, threw his cap on the bed, puffed, and unfastened his belt.
“Well, what did she want?”
“H’m! Of course! Polikoúshka is the least among men … but when there’s business to be done, who’s wanted? Why, Polikoúshka. …”
“What business?”
Polikéy did not hasten to reply. He lit his pipe and spat.
“To go and get money from a tradesman.”
“To fetch money?” Akoulína asked.
Polikéy chuckled and wagged his head.
“Ah! Ain’t she clever at words? … ‘You have been regarded,’ she says, ‘as an untrustworthy man; but I trust you more than another’ ” (Polikéy spoke in a loud voice that the neighbours might hear). “ ‘You promised me you’d reform; here,’ she says, ‘is the first proof that I believe you. Go,’ she says, ‘to the customer, fetch the money he owes, and bring it back to