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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 216 pages of information about The Lady with the Dog and Other Stories.

When he heard the footsteps of Yegor Semyonitch going out into the garden, Kovrin rang the bell and asked the footman to bring him some wine.  He drank several glasses of Lafitte, then wrapped himself up, head and all; his consciousness grew clouded and he fell asleep.

IV

Yegor Semyonitch and Tanya often quarrelled and said nasty things to each other.

They quarrelled about something that morning.  Tanya burst out crying and went to her room.  She would not come down to dinner nor to tea.  At first Yegor Semyonitch went about looking sulky and dignified, as though to give every one to understand that for him the claims of justice and good order were more important than anything else in the world; but he could not keep it up for long, and soon sank into depression.  He walked about the park dejectedly, continually sighing:  “Oh, my God!  My God!” and at dinner did not eat a morsel.  At last, guilty and conscience-stricken, he knocked at the locked door and called timidly: 

“Tanya!  Tanya!”

And from behind the door came a faint voice, weak with crying but still determined: 

“Leave me alone, if you please.”

The depression of the master and mistress was reflected in the whole household, even in the labourers working in the garden.  Kovrin was absorbed in his interesting work, but at last he, too, felt dreary and uncomfortable.  To dissipate the general ill-humour in some way, he made up his mind to intervene, and towards evening he knocked at Tanya’s door.  He was admitted.

“Fie, fie, for shame!” he began playfully, looking with surprise at Tanya’s tear-stained, woebegone face, flushed in patches with crying.  “Is it really so serious?  Fie, fie!”

“But if you knew how he tortures me!” she said, and floods of scalding tears streamed from her big eyes.  “He torments me to death,” she went on, wringing her hands.  “I said nothing to him . . . nothing . . .  I only said that there was no need to keep . . . too many labourers . . . if we could hire them by the day when we wanted them.  You know . . . you know the labourers have been doing nothing for a whole week. . . .  I . . .  I . . . only said that, and he shouted and . . . said . . . a lot of horrible insulting things to me.  What for?”

“There, there,” said Kovrin, smoothing her hair.  “You’ve quarrelled with each other, you’ve cried, and that’s enough.  You must not be angry for long—­that’s wrong . . . all the more as he loves you beyond everything.”

“He has . . . has spoiled my whole life,” Tanya went on, sobbing.  “I hear nothing but abuse and . . . insults.  He thinks I am of no use in the house.  Well!  He is right.  I shall go away to-morrow; I shall become a telegraph clerk. . . .  I don’t care. . . .”

“Come, come, come. . . .  You mustn’t cry, Tanya.  You mustn’t, dear . . . .  You are both hot-tempered and irritable, and you are both to blame.  Come along; I will reconcile you.”

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