caught things with my hands. And I went in for horse-dealing too, I used
to go to the fairs when I had the money, and you know that if a peasant
goes in for being a sportsman, or a horse-dealer, it's good-bye to the
plough. Once the spirit of freedom has taken a man you will never root
it out of him. In the same way, if a gentleman goes in for being
an actor or for any other art, he will never make an official or a
landowner. You are a woman, and you do not understand, but one must
understand that."

"I understand, Yegor Vlassitch."

"You don't understand if you are going to cry...."

"I... I'm not crying," said Pelagea, turning away. "It's a sin, Yegor
Vlassitch! You might stay a day with luckless me, anyway. It's twelve
years since I was married to you, and... and... there has never once
been love between us!... I... I am not crying."

"Love..." muttered Yegor, scratching his hand. "There can't be any love.
It's only in name we are husband and wife; we aren't really. In your
eyes I am a wild man, and in mine you are a simple peasant woman with
no understanding. Are we well matched? I am a free, pampered, profligate
man, while you are a working woman, going in bark shoes and never
straightening your back. The way I think of myself is that I am the
foremost man in every kind of sport, and you look at me with pity.... Is
that being well matched?"

"But we are married, you know, Yegor Vlassitch," sobbed Pelagea.

"Not married of our free will.... Have you forgotten? You have to thank
Count Sergey Paylovitch and yourself. Out of envy, because I shot better
than he did, the Count kept giving me wine for a whole month, and when
a man's drunk you could make him change his religion, let alone getting
married. To pay me out he married me to you when I was drunk.... A
huntsman to a herd-girl! You saw I was drunk, why did you marry me? You
were not a serf, you know; you could have resisted. Of course it was a
bit of luck for a herd-girl to marry a huntsman, but you ought to have
thought about it. Well, now be miserable, cry. It's a joke for the
Count, but a crying matter for you.... Beat yourself against the wall."

A silence followed. Three wild ducks flew over the clearing. Yegor
followed them with his eyes till, transformed into three scarcely
visible dots, they sank down far beyond the forest.

"How do you live?" he asked, moving his eyes from the ducks to Pelagea.

"Now I am going out to work, and in the winter I ta