They all seemed to her mediocre, insipid, unintelligent, narrow,
false, heartless; they all said what they did not think, and did
what they did not want to. Dreariness and despair were stifling
her; she longed to leave off smiling, to leap up and cry out, "I
am sick of you," and then jump out and swim to the bank.

"I say, let's take Pyotr Dmitritch in tow!" some one shouted.

"In tow, in tow!" the others chimed in. "Olga Mihalovna, take your
husband in tow."

To take him in tow, Olga Mihalovna, who was steering, had to seize
the right moment and to catch bold of his boat by the chain at the
beak. When she bent over to the chain Pyotr Dmitritch frowned and
looked at her in alarm.

"I hope you won't catch cold," he said.

"If you are uneasy about me and the child, why do you torment me?"
thought Olga Mihalovna.

Pyotr Dmitritch acknowledged himself vanquished, and, not caring
to be towed, jumped from the _Penderaklia_ into the boat which was
overful already, and jumped so carelessly that the boat lurched
violently, and every one cried out in terror.

"He did that to please the ladies," thought Olga Mihalovna; "he
knows it's charming." Her hands and feet began trembling, as she
supposed, from boredom, vexation from the strain of smiling and the
discomfort she felt all over her body. And to conceal this trembling