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Updated: May 4, 2025
In the half-dark and warmly heated room they called the lounge-room, there stood against the walls long, wide sofas, solid and heavy, the work of Butyga the cabinet maker; on them lay high, soft, white beds, probably made by the old woman in spectacles. On one of them Sobol, without his coat and boots, already lay asleep with his face to the back of the sofa; another bed was awaiting me.
At that moment a visitor came into the room. He was a tall, thick-set gentleman whom I did not know, with a bald head, a big fair beard, and little eyes. From his baggy, crumpled clothes and his manners I took him to be a parish clerk or a teacher, but my wife introduced him to me as Dr. Sobol.
The horses, the men, and the sledges were white. "Where do all these people come from?" I asked as my three horses and the doctor's two moved at a walking pace out of the yard. "They are all his serfs," said Sobol. "The new order has not reached him yet.
Then, "Given to A. M. Sobol 32 roubles." When was it given? For what purpose was it given? Where was the receipt? There was nothing to show, and no making anything of it. In case of legal proceedings, these papers would only obscure the case. "How naive she is!" I thought with surprise. "What a child!" I felt both vexed and amused.
I was pleased that this was said quite simply, and was glad that Sobol answered me still more simply: "Right." We paid for what we had and went out of the tavern. "I like going on like this," said Sobol, getting into the sledge. "Eccellenza, oblige me with a match. I've forgotten mine in the tavern."
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