There was only one drawback--he always had to get the
inspector's permission for the least little thing he wanted to do.
Semyon and his wife were even beginning to be bored.
Two months passed, and Semyon commenced to make the acquaintance of
his neighbours, the track-walkers on either side of him. One was a
very old man, whom the authorities were always meaning to relieve. He
scarcely moved out of his hut. His wife used to do all his work. The
other track-walker, nearer the station, was a young man, thin, but
muscular. He and Semyon met for the first time on the line midway
between the huts. Semyon took off his hat and bowed. "Good health to
you, neighbour," he said.
The neighbour glanced askance at him. "How do you do?" he replied;
then turned around and made off.
Later the wives met. Semyon's wife passed the time of day with her
neighbour, but neither did she say much.
On one occasion Semyon said to her: "Young woman, your husband is not
very talkative."
The woman said nothing at first, then replied: "But what is there for
him to talk about? Every one has his own business. Go your way, and
God be with you.
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