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Updated: June 15, 2025
She wished to say something, but she thought to herself: "Perhaps I do not understand how gentleman's boots should be made. I suppose Michael knows more about it and I won't interfere." When Michael had cut up the leather, he took a thread and began to sew not with two ends, as boots are sewn, but with a single end, as for soft slippers. Again Matryona wondered, but again she did not interfere.
“You’re lying!” shouted Mitya. “From your terror I know where she is.” He rushed away. Fenya in her fright was glad she had got off so easily. But she knew very well that it was only that he was in such haste, or she might not have fared so well. But as he ran, he surprised both Fenya and old Matryona by an unexpected action.
And did I ever beat you out of spite? I just beat you without thinking. I am sorry for you. Some men wouldn't trouble, but here I am taking you.... I am doing my best. And the way it snows, the way it snows! Thy Will be done, O Lord! God grant we don't get off the road.... Does your side ache, Matryona, that you don't speak? I ask you, does your side ache?"
She pressed the lame little girl to her with one hand, while with the other she wiped the tears from her cheeks. And Matryona sighed, and said: "The proverb is true that says, 'One may live without father or mother, but one cannot live without God." So they talked together, when suddenly the whole hut was lighted up as though by summer lightning from the corner where Michael sat.
Now and then the sledge ran into a young fir tree, a dark object scratched the turner's hands and flashed before his eyes, and the field of vision was white and whirling again. "To live over again," thought the turner. He remembered that forty years ago Matryona had been young, handsome, merry, that she had come of a well-to-do family.
Matryona sat at the corner of the table resting her head on her hand and looking at the stranger. And Matryona was touched with pity for the stranger, and began to feel fond of him. And at once the stranger's face lit up; his brows were no longer bent, he raised his eyes and smiled at Matryona. When they had finished supper, the woman cleared away the things and began questioning the stranger.
Matryona put out the candle, took the coat, and climbed to where her husband lay. Matryona drew the skirts of the coat over her and lay down, but could not sleep; she could not get the stranger out of her mind.
“You see, Alyosha,” Grushenka turned to him with a nervous laugh. “I was boasting when I told Rakitin I had given away an onion, but it’s not to boast I tell you about it. It’s only a story, but it’s a nice story. I used to hear it when I was a child from Matryona, my cook, who is still with me. It’s like this. Once upon a time there was a peasant woman and a very wicked woman she was.
Matryona rose, took from the window Simon's old shirt she had been patching, and gave it to the stranger. She also brought out a pair of trousers for him. "There," said she, "I see you have no shirt. Put this on, and lie down where you please, in the loft or on the oven." The stranger took off the coat, put on the shirt, and lay down in the loft.
I went out for sheep-skins and come home without even a coat to my back, and what is more, I'm bringing a naked man along with me. Matryona won't be pleased!" And when he thought of his wife he felt sad; but when he looked at the stranger and remembered how he had looked up at him at the shrine, his heart was glad. Simon's wife had everything ready early that day.
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