Matryóna drew the skirts of the coat over her and lay down, but could not sleep; she could not get the stranger out of her mind.
When she remembered that he had eaten their last piece of bread and that there was none for tomorrow, and thought of the shirt and trousers she had given away, she felt grieved; but when she remembered how he had smiled, her heart was glad.
Long did Matryóna lie awake, and she noticed that Simon also was awake—he drew the coat towards him.
“Simon!”
“Well?”
“You have had the last of the bread, and I have not put any to rise. I don’t know what we shall do tomorrow. Perhaps I can borrow some of neighbour Martha.”
“If we’re alive we shall find something to eat.”
The woman lay still awhile, and then said, “He seems a good man, but why does he not tell us who he is?”
“I suppose he has his reasons.”
“Simon!”
“Well?”
“We give; but why does nobody give us anything?”
Simon did not know what to say; so he only said, “Let us stop talking,” and turned over and went to sleep.