Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 11, 2025
"Not bad," said Iakov, vaguely, blinking his eyes. "What could I do?" asked Vassili. "I tried at first. But it was impossible. She mends my clothes and so on. Besides it's as easy to escape from death as from a woman when once she's after you." "What's it to me?" said Iakov. "It's your affair. I'm not your judge." Malva now returned with the spoons, and they sat down to dinner.
If Malva had not been present he would have told his son what he thought about it. Iakov was smart enough to leave the village on his own responsibility and without the father's permission, but he had not been able to get a living out of the soil. Vassili sighed as he stirred the soup, and as he watched the blue flames he thought of his son and Malva.
She gave him a long look, trembled and lowering her voice repeated: "Oh, yes, you'll make it up to me." Vassili interpreted her words in a sense agreeable to him. "How?" he asked. "You'll see," replied Malva calmly, very calmly, but her lips trembled. "Ah, my darling!" cried Vassili, clasping her close in his arms. "Do you know that since I have beaten you I love you better."
When Malva came up and dropped on the sand by his side he turned towards her with vexation plainly written on his face. "Well, old man," she said laughing, "you don't seem pleased to see your son." "He mocks me. And why? Because of you," replied Vassili testily. "Oh, I am sorry. What can we do? I mustn't come here again, eh? All right. I'll not come again." "Siren that you are! Ah, you women!
The father gave him a rapid glance and then turned away his eyes. Malva did not stir. Serejka moved his leg and raising his voice said: "Here's our dearly beloved son, Iakov, back from a distant shore." Then he added in his ordinary voice: "You should flay him alive and make drums with his skin." Malva laughed. "It's hot," said Iakov, sitting beside them.
"You'll find work," replied Malva with assurance, examining him critically with her green eyes. He paid no attention to her, and with his sleeve wiped away the perspiration that covered his face. She suddenly began to laugh. "Your mother probably sent messages for your father by you?" Iakov gave a shrug of ill humor and replied: "Of course. What if she did?" "Oh, nothing."
Evidently it was difficult for him to talk. The words stuck between his teeth. He stroked his beard and his hand trembled. Malva eyed him. Serejka had half closed one eye and with the other watched Iakov. Iakov was jubilant, but afraid of betraying himself; he was silent and lowered his head. "Don't forget your mother, Iakov. Remember, you are all she has."
That is how they spent every Sunday and holiday. And at daylight he would row her back over the sea in the sharp morning air. Malva, still nodding with sleep, would hold the tiller and he would watch her as he pulled. She was amusing at those times, funny and charming both, like a cat which had eaten well.
He did not want to return to the bark as he was in a hurry to eat and to see Malva. Many a time had he thought of her during the long lonely hours on the sea. He wondered if she and his father had seen each other again and what they had said. Perhaps the old man had beaten her. The deserted fisheries were slumbering, as if overcome by the heat. In the inspector's office a child was crying.
No, no sign of her! What a cursed woman! Perhaps she's angry because I beat her." Thus, thinking of his son, of Serejka, but more often of Malva, Vassili paced up and down the sandy beach, turning every now and then to look anxiously out to sea. But Malva did not come. This is what had happened. Iakov rose early, and on going down to the beach as usual to wash himself, he saw Malva.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking