These wifely animadversions, probably oft-heard, by no
means interfered with his domestic peace.
"It can't be that the man doesn't know when his wife is coming back
home," Mrs. Zarubkin continued excitedly. "She's written to him every
day of the four months that she's been away. The postmaster told me
so."
"Semyonov! Ho, Semyonov! Has any one from the office been here?"
"I don't know, your Excellency," came in a loud, clear voice from back
of the room.
"Why don't you know? Where have you been?"
"I went to Abramka, your Excellency."
"The tailor again?"
"Yes, your Excellency, the tailor Abramka."
The captain spat in annoyance.
"And where is Krynka?"
"He went to market, your Excellency."
"Was he told to go to market?"
"Yes, your Excellency."
The captain spat again.
"Why do you keep spitting? Such vulgar manners!" his wife cried
angrily. "You behave at home like a drunken subaltern. You haven't the
least consideration for your wife. You are so coarse in your behaviour
towards me! Do, please, go to your office."
"Semyonov."
"Your Excellency?"
"If the package comes, please have it sent back to the office and say
I've gone there.
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