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'I will go to the town and be a cabman. . . . It seems it is fated not to be. At Easter I went to Demidovo to have a last look at her. . . ." Konstantin threw back his head and went off into a mirthful tinkling laugh, as though he had just taken someone in very cleverly. "I saw her by the river with the lads," he went on.
I saw her at the Kalatchik fair; I fell madly in love with her, was ready to hang myself. . . . I live at Rovno, she at Demidovo, more than twenty miles apart, and there was nothing I could do. I sent match-makers to her, and all she said was: 'I won't! Ah, the magpie! I sent her one thing and another, earrings and cakes, and twenty pounds of honey but still she said: 'I won't! And there it was.
I was so frantic that I even wanted to get taken on as a labourer in Demidovo, so as to be near her. I was in misery! My mother called in a witch a dozen times; my father tried thrashing me. For three years I was in this torment, and then I made up my mind. 'Damn my soul! I said.
They've six oxen, and they keep a couple of labourers. I was in love, friends, as though I were plague-stricken. I couldn't sleep or eat; my brain was full of thoughts, and in such a maze, Lord preserve us! I longed to see her, and she was in Demidovo. What do you think? God be my witness, I am not lying, three times a week I walked over there on foot just to have a look at her. I gave up my work!
"She has gone to Demidovo to see her mother," he said, blushing and moving his gun. "She'll be back to-morrow. . . . She said she would be back to dinner." "And do you miss her?" said Dymov. "Oh, Lord, yes; I should think so. We have only been married such a little while, and she has gone away. . . . Eh! Oh, but she is a tricky one, God strike me dead!
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