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Silence, I tell you, silence!... Why, upon my word, this is simply mutiny! You can go, I tell you. Arkady Pavlitch turned his back on them. 'Nothing but vexation, he muttered between his teeth, and strode with long steps homewards. Sofron followed him. The village constable opened his eyes wide, looking as if he were just about to take a tremendous leap into space.
In the cold hut, as it is called to the right of the outer room two other women were still busily at work; they were carrying out all the rubbish, empty tubs, sheepskins stiff as boards, greasy pots, a cradle with a heap of dish-clouts and a baby covered with spots, and sweeping out the dirt with bathbrooms. Arkady Pavlitch sent them away, and installed himself on a bench under the holy pictures.
'What's your name? 'Antip, your honour. 'And who's this? 'My boy, your honour. Arkady Pavlitch was silent again; he pulled his moustaches. 'Well! and how has he tormented you? he began again, looking over his moustaches at the old man. 'Your honour, he has ruined us utterly. Two sons, your honour, he's sent for recruits out of turn, and now he is taking the third also.
The young peasant prostrated himself too. Arkady Pavlitch looked at their bent necks with an air of dignity, threw back his head, and stood with his legs rather wide apart. 'What is it? Whom do you complain of? 'Have mercy, lord! Let us breathe.... We are crushed, worried, tormented to death quite. 'Who worries you? 'Sofron Yakovlitch, your honour. Arkady Pavlitch was silent a minute.
Volintsev continued to stare out of the window. His voice sounded choked. Rudin got up. 'I will tell you, Sergei Pavlitch, why I decided to come to you, why I did not even think I had the right to hide from you our our mutual feelings. I have too profound an esteem for you that is why I have come; I did not want... we both did not wish to play a part before you.
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