They had begun ringing
the church bells for the evening service, when the thought struck me:
'To-morrow's Trinity Sunday; how is it they are not decking the gates
and the fence with green? Something's wrong,' I thought. I went over to
them. I peeped in, and there he was, sitting on the floor in the middle
of the room, his eyes staring like a drunken man's, the tears streaming
down his cheeks and his hands shaking; he was pulling cracknels,
necklaces, gingerbread nuts, and all sorts of little presents out of
his bundle and flinging them on the floor. Kuzka--he was three years
old--was crawling on the floor, munching the gingerbreads, while
Mashenka stood by the stove, white and shivering all over, muttering:
'I'm not your wife; I can't live with you,' and all sorts of
foolishness. I bowed down at Vasya's feet, and said: 'We have sinned
against you, Vassily Maximitch; forgive us, for Christ's sake!' Then I
got up and spoke to Mashenka: 'You, Marya Semyonovna, ought now to wash
Vassily Maximitch's feet and drink the water. Do you be an obedient
wife to him, and pray to God for me, that He in His mercy may forgive
my transgression.' It came to me like an inspiration from an angel of
Heaven; I gave her solemn counsel and spoke with such feeling that
my own tears flowed too. And so two days later Vasya comes to me:
'Matyusha,' says he, 'I forgive you and my wife; God have mercy on you!
She was a soldier's wife, a young thing all alone; it was hard for
her to be on her guard. She's not the first, nor will she be the last.
Only,' he says, 'I beg you to behave as though there had never been
anything between you, and to make no sign, while I,' says he, 'will
do my best to please her in every way, so that she may come to love me
again.' He gave me his hand on it, drank a cup of tea, and went away
more cheerful.

"'Well,' thought I, 'thank God!' and I did feel glad that everything
had gone off so well. But no sooner had Vasya gone out of the yard, when
in came Mashenka. Ah! What I had to suffer! She hung on my neck, weeping
and praying: 'For God's sake, don't cast me off; I can't live without
you!'"

"The vile hussy!" sighed Dyudya.

"I swore at her, stamped my foot, and dragging her into the passage, I
fastened the door with the hook. 'Go to your husband,' I cried. 'Don't
shame me before folks. Fear God!' And every day there was a scene of
that sort.

"One morning I was standing in my yard near the stable cleaning a
bridle.