“A fine statesman for you!” scoffed Chyenke with cutting sarcasm, looking into the chimney of the samovar.
He made no reply and got busy upon his work.
From his bench he cast frequent glances toward Chyenke, who was occupied with household duties. She was angry, and did not deign to look in his direction. So he, too, pretended not to look at her.
“She’s good looking, Chyenke is ... a beautiful woman,” he thought, stealing a glimpse at her. “A fine figure—and what a bust!”... It suddenly occurred to him that he had never thought of “such things”.... And try as he might, he could not explain to himself what had come over him. Something was drawing him to Chyenke. At that very moment he would gladly have cast his work aside and run over to her.... He could not imagine himself kissing her, but he would most certainly do it if he were to run over to her at that very moment. He was ashamed of the feeling, which made him arise from his place, and he began to look for something upon the table, then about the room, finally edging up to Chyenke.
“How about the samovar?” he asked, sullenly, although he had meant to say something far different and much more friendly.
“Touch it and see,” replied Chyenke ill-humouredly, wiping the tea-glasses.
“Touch it and see!” he mocked, good-naturedly, smiling and placing a hand against the samovar. He was at a loss for something nice to say,—something that would conciliate her.
“Whom are you thinking of giving the jobs to?”
“You’ll find out!”
She felt that he was trying to make up with her, and that it was now her time to take revenge for yesterday’s episode. She would have him at her feet yet!