On hearing this the girl burst into tears, muttering something. The three children on the stove began to howl in chorus.

The peasant crossed himself, and going up to his wife, uncovered her face and looked at her. The white face was calm and still. He stood over the dead woman for a few minutes, then tenderly covered the face again, and crossing himself several times, tamed to the priest and said⁠—

“Shall we start?”

“Yes, we had better go.”

“All right. I’ll just water the mare.” And he left the hut.