"Ha, ha, of course not," observed the old man. "But, however," he went
on in a singsong voice, "we will take our leave; we are thoroughly
satisfied, it is time for bed, ..." and he got up.

"We are well satisfied, too," Akim brought out and he got up, "for
your entertainment, that is, but we wish you a good night.
Avdotyushka, come along."

Avdotya got up as it were unwillingly. Naum, too, got up after her ...
the party broke up. The innkeeper and his wife went off to the little
lobby partitioned off, which served them as a bedroom. Akim was
snoring immediately. It was a long time before Avdotya could get to
sleep.... At first she lay still, turning her face to the wall, then
she began tossing from side to side on the hot feather bed, throwing
off and pulling up the quilt alternately ... then she sank into a light
doze. Suddenly she heard from the yard a loud masculine voice: it was
singing a song of which it was impossible to distinguish the words,
prolonging each note, though not with a melancholy effect. Avdotya
opened her eyes, propped herself on her elbows and listened.... The
song went on.... It rang out musically in the autumn air.

Akim raised his head.

"Who's that singing?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered.

"He sings well," he added, after a brief pause. "Very well. What a
strong voice. I used to sing in my day," he went on. "And I sang well,