"Don't go, Volodka," said Rodion diffidently. "Don't go with them, son. You are foolish, like a little child; they will teach you no good; don't go!"
"Don't go, son," said Stepanida, and she blinked as though about to shed tears. "I bet they are calling you to the tavern."
"'To the tavern,'" Volodka mimicked.
"You'll come back drunk again, you currish Herod," said Lukerya, looking at him angrily.
"Go along, go along, and may you burn up with vodka, you tailless Satan!"
"You hold your tongue," shouted Volodka.
"They've married me to a fool, they've ruined me, a luckless orphan, you red-headed drunkard . . ." wailed Lukerya, wiping her face with a hand covered with dough. "I wish I had never set eyes on you."
Volodka gave her a blow on the ear and went off.
III
Elena Ivanovna and her little daughter visited the village on foot. They were out for a walk. It was a Sunday, and the peasant women and girls were walking up and down the street in their brightly-coloured dresses. Rodion and Stepanida, sitting side by side at their door, bowed and smiled to Elena Ivanovna and her little daughter as to acquaintances. From the windows more than a dozen children stared at them; their faces expressed amazement and curiosity, and they could be heard whispering:
