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From his old father Nikolay learned that Marya was afraid to live in the forest with Kiryak, and that when he was drunk he always came for her, made a row, and beat her mercilessly. "Ma-arya!" the shout sounded close to the door. "Protect me, for Christ's sake, good people!" faltered Marya, breathing as though she had been plunged into very cold water. "Protect me, kind people...."
And every time the deacon boomed out something in his bass voice she fancied she heard "Ma-arya!" and she shuddered. The arrival of the visitors was already known in the village, and directly after mass a number of people gathered together in the hut. The Leonytchevs and Matvyeitchevs and the Ilyitchovs came to inquire about their relations who were in service in Moscow.
The old father and Kiryak, both drunk, walking arm-in-arm and jostling against each other's shoulders, went to the barn where Olga and Marya were lying. "Let her alone," the old man persuaded him; "let her alone.... She is a harmless woman.... It's a sin...." "Ma-arya!" shouted Kiryak. "Let her be.... It's a sin.... She is not a bad woman." Both stopped by the barn and went on.
It was disgusting to drink, and the conversation was disgusting, too about nothing but poverty and illnesses. But before they had time to empty their first cups there came a loud, prolonged, drunken shout from the yard: "Ma-arya!" "It looks as though Kiryak were coming," said the old man. "Speak of the devil." All were hushed.
And again, soon afterwards, the same shout, coarse and drawn-out as though it came out of the earth: "Ma-arya!" Marya, the elder sister-in-law, turned pale and huddled against the stove, and it was strange to see the look of terror on the face of the strong, broad-shouldered, ugly woman.
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