“You look here!  You look here!  You only bring me the sand; I set ten men on at once, and in two days it will be done!  You look here!”

But they brought the sand and two days passed, and four, and a week, and instead of the promised foundations there was still a yawning hole.

“It’s enough to drive one out of one’s senses,” said my wife, in distress.  “What people!  What people!”

In the midst of these disorderly doings the engineer arrived; he brought with him parcels of wine and savouries, and after a prolonged meal lay down for a nap in the verandah and snored so loudly that the labourers shook their heads and said:  “Well!”

Masha was not pleased at his coming, she did not trust him, though at the same time she asked his advice.  When, after sleeping too long after dinner, he got up in a bad humour and said unpleasant things about our management of the place, or expressed regret that he had bought Dubetchnya, which had already been a loss to him, poor Masha’s face wore an expression of misery.  She would complain to him, and he would yawn and say that the peasants ought to be flogged.

He called our marriage and our life a farce, and said it was a caprice, a whim.

“She has done something of the sort before,” he said about Masha.  “She once fancied herself a great opera singer and left me; I was looking for her for two months, and, my dear soul, I spent a thousand roubles on telegrams alone.”

He no longer called me a dissenter or Mr. Painter, and did not as in the past express approval of my living like a workman, but said: 

“You are a strange person!  You are not a normal person!  I won’t venture to prophesy, but you will come to a bad end!”

And Masha slept badly at night, and was always sitting at our bedroom window thinking.  There was no laughter at supper now, no charming grimaces.  I was wretched, and when it rained, every drop that fell seemed to pierce my heart, like small shot, and I felt ready to fall on my knees before Masha and apologize for the weather.  When the peasants made a noise in the yard I felt guilty also.  For hours at a time I sat still in one place, thinking of nothing but what a splendid person Masha was, what a wonderful person.  I loved her passionately, and I was fascinated by everything she did, everything she said.  She had a bent for quiet, studious pursuits; she was fond of reading for hours together, of studying.  Although her knowledge of farming was only from books she surprised us all by what she knew; and every piece of advice she gave was of value; not one was ever thrown away; and, with all that, what nobility, what taste, what graciousness, that graciousness which is only found in well-educated people.

To this woman, with her sound, practical intelligence, the disorderly surroundings with petty cares and sordid anxieties in which we were living now were an agony:  I saw that and could not sleep at night; my brain worked feverishly and I had a lump in my throat.  I rushed about not knowing what to do.