“Lie in darkness!” she scowled sharply, crawling back into bed.
He did not move.
“What do I care if he lies there like that?” she thought. “May he never get up again!”
Yet she was vexed to death.
She jumped up and in the dark began to make his bed. She worked angrily, jerking the sheet, tossing the pillow and pulling the blanket violently.
He remained upon the sofa in the same position as before, motionless.
He lay in thought, thus taking his revenge. Aha! He would not go to bed! Not he! He knew that she was boiling with rage. Let her learn a lesson!
Was he, then, to work like a horse and yet have no say in the business, not to be able to do as he thought best?... No, he was boss now, and let them all go to perdition!...
But he knew that Chyenke would not hesitate to create the most fearful scenes, and he felt that he would be unable to win out. In such a case he would break with Chyenke altogether,—get a divorce. His temples began to throb violently and his heart-beats sounded like hammer-blows. Let her pound her head against the wall with her money, her shop and the whole business! He would marry Chashke and live the kind of life he preferred: a quiet, peaceful, honest existence. They loved each other so! How on earth had he ever married the other woman! Such folly!...
But he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dejection. His heart became heavy. Poverty. Two corpses dancing. Again he would have to become a workingman and endure the oppression of employers. How much did Chashke earn, anyway? Next to nothing. And the old woman would be on his hands.... A fine old lady, he must admit. And she liked him. And yet ... he sighed deeply.