‘The largest of all. The chief authorities live there ... the big folks. The houses there are all made of stone; there aren’t any wooden ones.’
‘Of course, it’s much bigger than our Stiepany?’ Olyessia asked confidently.
‘Oh, yes. A good bit bigger. Say five hundred times as big. There are houses there so big that twice as many people live in a single one of them as in the whole of Stiepany.’
‘My God! What kind of houses can they be?’ Olyessia asked almost in fright.
‘Terrible houses. Five, six, even seven stories. You see that fir tree there?’
‘The tall one. I see.’
‘Houses as tall as that, and they’re crammed with people from top to bottom. The people live in wretched little holes, like birds in cages, ten people in each, so that there isn’t enough air to breathe. Some of them live downstairs, right under the earth, in the damp and cold. They don’t see the sun from one end of the year to the other, some of them.’
‘Nothing would make me change my forest for your city,’ Olyessia said, shaking her head. ‘Even when I go to the market at Stiepany, I’m disgusted. They push, shout, swear ... and I have such a longing for the forest, that I want to throw everything away and run and never look back. God may have your city: I don’t want to live there.’
‘But what if your husband comes from a town?’ I asked with the trace of a smile.
Her eyebrows frowned and her nostrils trembled.