The Orloff Couple and Malva

e of a violent and murderous attack. From the two cellar windows there rang forth into the narrow courtyard,

ne! you devil!" she shrie

n!" answered the te

of you, you wret

and leave

ill me—I won'

t? Then take th

is killing

let go o

ng me, you dog, till

a hurry—you take mor

the other was busy in one of the sheds in the yard rubbing and mixing colours, used to rush out in hot haste, and whil

row up at Orlof

stomach, poke his mischievous shock head of hair and his thin face, smeared with ochre and vermilion, as far as he could into the gloom of the cellar, and watch with curiosity all that went on in the dar

sped at this moment, in a warni

ockingly reassured her in a

soft; then sobs and sighs, and the panting of a man,

public who had gathered round—the porter, Lewtschenko, the accordion-player Kisljakoff, a couple of tailor's apprentices, and other amateu

? what's he doing to her t

r nose into the ground," explained Senka, who with t

eyes all the developments of the struggle, and although they knew well of old every point in the attack and defen

beaten her again, has he not, till

ood.... It is running do

or, what a wretch he is!" crie

r from a more abstract and

ly end by killin

yer remarked in a

for it He'll get tired of always knocking her about, and

on one side like an india-rubber ball. Immediately afterwards he took up another post of obser

the enraged cobbler. Now that the fight was over Grischka had lost all interest in their

is hands behind his back, he would walk slowly towards an old sledge which was leaning against the wall of a dilapidated wool-shed. Sometimes he would whistle and throw threatening glances around, as if he were challenging all the dwellers in Petounukoff's house to battle. Then he would sit down on the sledge, and with the sleeve of his shirt wipe the

er; dark restless flashing eyes looked out from under them. The curly hair that hung forward on his forehead fell behind over his brown strong neck in thick ringlets. Orloff was of middle height, a little bent with a sl

getable matter hung heavy on the sultry evening air. From the windows of the two-storied dwelling there came a sound of song and of oaths, which rang through t

at him, winking meaningly at one another, and filled the courtyard with the sounds of their Kostroma

lect of their painter comrades. The whole court was once more filled with noise, jovial laughter and jokes. Orloff sat silent in his corner, t

ch seemed to weigh on his breast and oppress his

ning thirst for vodka. He knew that he would feel more lighthearted when he had had something to drink, but he was ashamed while it was still light to show his torn and ragged condition in the street, where every one knew him personally as Grigori Orloff the cobbler. He had a fee

concerned he has much to blame himself, and this consideration increases even more the hatred which he feels towards her. A vague but dominating feeling of anger gnaws his soul, prevailing over every other feeling, w

artly-polished shoes. Under his arm he carries in a green bundle his accordion; he has twisted up his black moustache, his cap is worn jauntily on one side, and his whole count

r, returning blood-stained from the fra

it already for the fiftieth time. He knew that the accordion-player

na again?" Kisljakoff asked the cobbler, as

Come along with me to the only place which is of any good t

objected Orloff, wit

ith silent longing!..." sa

s, leaning for support against the wall, crosses the courtyard, going straight to the place where a short time before her husband had sat, and sits down precisely in the same spot No one is surprised at her appearance, they are all accustomed to it, an

he, in order that they might live, had been obliged to pawn everything they possessed. From that time Matrona had taken good care of him. Sometimes one of the inhabitants of the house wo

nd a stretch, and remark—"Well,

Matrona would reply

"Little Russian," and then they

something seemed to

at loggerheads with one another! Can't you alter

ess," replied Orl

" agreed Lewtschenko, nodding his head to show th

at?" continued Matro

ught both to be beaten twice a day, morning and evening—then perhaps the desire for quarrelling would be knocked out of you." And he went away angrily and Matrona was glad; for several times the

erly stride to a corner of the yard, when suddenly Tschischik

hispered with a precocious air to the non-commissioned

sian" threatened him, though he was really laughing behind his moustache. He liked the lively l

o Lewtschenko's threat, and going on with his revelations. "Maximka, the painter, has a

th which his life was surrounded, just as a sponge absorbs the water in which it lies; and t

stars. The courtyard itself with its steep walled sides looked like a deep pit, at the bottom of which sat, huddled up in a corner