I stood still; I did nothing, just as if
what he did was perfectly all right. They went off; I came to myself,
washed my face, and left."
"And what about the hut?"
"My wife is staying there. She will look after things. Never mind
about their roads."
Vasily got up and collected himself. "Good-bye, Ivanov. I do not know
whether I shall get any one at the office to listen to me."
"Surely you are not going to walk?"
"At the station I will try to get on a freight train, and to-morrow I
shall be in Moscow."
The neighbours bade each other farewell. Vasily was absent for some
time. His wife worked for him night and day. She never slept, and wore
herself out waiting for her husband. On the third day the commission
arrived. An engine, luggage-van, and two first-class saloons; but
Vasily was still away. Semyon saw his wife on the fourth day. Her face
was swollen from crying and her eyes were red.
"Has your husband returned?" he asked. But the woman only made a
gesture with her hands, and without saying a word went her way.
Semyon had learnt when still a lad to make flutes out of a kind of
reed. He used to burn out the heart of the stalk, make holes where
necessary, drill them, fix a mouthpiece at one end, and tune them so
well that it was possible to play almost any air on them.
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