" At
night she dreamed of whole mountains of boards and planks, long,
endless rows of wagons conveying the wood somewhere, far, far from the
city. She dreamed that a whole regiment of beams, 36 ft. x 5 in., were
advancing in an upright position to do battle against the lumber-yard;
that the beams and joists and clamps were knocking against each other,
emitting the sharp crackling reports of dry wood, that they were all
falling and then rising again, piling on top of each other. Olenka
cried out in her sleep, and Pustovalov said to her gently:
"Olenka my dear, what is the matter? Cross yourself."
Her husband's opinions were all hers. If he thought the room was too
hot, she thought so too. If he thought business was dull, she thought
business was dull. Pustovalov was not fond of amusements and stayed
home on holidays; she did the same.
"You are always either at home or in the office," said her friends.
"Why don't you go to the theatre or to the circus, darling?"
"Vasichka and I never go to the theatre," she answered sedately. "We
have work to do, we have no time for nonsense. What does one get out
of going to theatre?"
On Saturdays she and Pustovalov went to vespers, and on holidays to
early mass.
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