But the feldscher had already called for the next patient, and into the dispensary came a peasant woman with a little boy.
"Be off!" he said to Yakob, with a frown.
"At least try the effect of leeches. I will pray God eternally for you."
The feldscher lost his temper, and roared: "Not another word."
Yakob also lost his temper, and grew purple in the face; but he said nothing more and took Marfa under his arm and led her out of the room. As soon as he had got her into the cart, he looked angrily and contemptuously at the hospital and said:
"What an artist! He will let the blood of a rich man, but for a poor man grudges even a leech. Herod!"
When they arrived home, and entered the cabin, Marfa stood for a moment holding on to the stove. She was afraid that if she were to lie down Yakob would begin to complain about his losses, and abuse her for lying in bed and doing no work. And Yakob looked at her with tedium in his soul and remembered that to-morrow was John the Baptist, and the day after Nikolai the Miracle-worker, and then came Sunday, and after that Monday—another idle day. For four days no work could be done, and Marfa would be sure to die on one of these days. Her coffin must be made to-day. He took the iron yardwand, went up to the old woman and took her measure. After that she lay down, and Yakob crossed himself, and began to make a coffin.
When the work was finished, Bronza put on his spectacles and wrote in his book of losses:
"Marfa Ivanova's coffin—2 roubles, 40 kopecks."
And he sighed. All the time Marfa had lain silently with her eyes closed. Towards evening, when it was growing dark, she called her husband: