"
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled.
"What you have done was noble!" he said, with irritation.
She was silent.
"You will ruin my boy, ruin him entirely. You do not fear God, you have
no shame! What are you going to do?"
"What should I do?" she said.
There was a ring of anguish, or vexation, in her voice.
"What you ought to do!" cried Vassili, seized suddenly with a fierce
rage.
He felt a passionate desire to strike her, to knock her down and bury
her in the sand, to kick her in the face, in the breast. He clenched
his fists and looked back.
Yonder, near the barrels, he saw Iakov and Serejka. Their faces were
turned in his direction.
"Get away with you! I could crush you!"
He stopped and hissed insults in her face. His eyes were bloodshot, his
beard trembled and his hands seemed to advance involuntarily towards
Malva's hair, which emerged from beneath her shawl.
She fixed her green eyes on him.
"You deserve killing," he said. "Wait, some one will break your head
yet."
She smiled, still silent. Then she sighed deeply and said:
"That's enough! now farewell!"
And suddenly turning on her heels she left him and came back.
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