“I did not say one word to her all that day⁠ ⁠… only in the evening. ‘Akulka, I shall kill you now,’ says I. All night I could not sleep; I went into the passage to get some kvass to drink, and the sun was beginning to rise. I went back into the room. ‘Akulka,’ said I, ‘get ready to go out to the field.’ I had been meaning to go before and mother knew we were going. ‘That’s right,’ said she. ‘It’s harvest-time now and I hear the labourer’s been laid up with his stomach for the last three days.’ I got out the cart without saying a word. As you go out of our town there’s a pine forest that stretches for ten miles, and beyond the forest was the land we rented. When we had gone two miles I stopped the horse. ‘Get out, Akulina,’ said I, ‘your end has come.’ She looked at me, she was scared; she stood up before me, she did not speak. ‘I am sick of you,’ says I, ‘say your prayers!’ And then I snatched her by the hair; she had two thick long plaits. I twisted them round my hand and held her tight from behind between my knees. I drew out my knife, I pulled her head back and I slid the knife along her throat.