came away.'

The peasant related all this with a smile, as though he were speaking
of someone else; but tears were starting into his small, screwed-up
eyes, and his lips were quivering.

'Well, are you going home then now?'

'Where can I go? Of course I'm going home. My wife, I suppose, is
pretty well starved by now.'

'You should--then,' Styopushka said suddenly. He grew confused, was
silent, and began to rummage in the worm-pot.

'And shall you go to the bailiff?' continued Tuman, looking with some
amazement at Styopka.

'What should I go to him for?--I'm in arrears as it is. My son was ill
for a year before his death; he could not pay even his own rent. But it
can't hurt me; they can get nothing from me.... Yes, my friend, you can
be as cunning as you please--I'm cleaned out!' (The peasant began to
laugh.) 'Kintlyan Semenitch'll have to be clever if--'

Vlass laughed again.

'Oh! things are in a sad way, brother Vlass,' Tuman ejaculated
deliberately.

'Sad! No!' (Vlass's voice broke.) 'How hot it is!' he went on, wiping
his face with his sleeve.