The ladies of the town began to visit Varvara. Some of them with an eager curiosity had managed to pay a visit on the second or third day, to see how Varvara looked at home. Others delayed a week or more. And still others did not come at all—as, for instance, Vershina.
The Peredonovs awaited return visits every day with anxious impatience; they counted up those who had not yet come. They awaited the Head-Master and his wife with special impatience. They waited and were immensely agitated for fear that the Khripatches should suddenly arrive.
A week had passed. The Khripatches had not yet come. Varvara had got into a temper and began to pour out abuse. This waiting plunged Peredonov into a deeply depressed state of mind. Peredonov's eyes became entirely vacant. It was as if they were becoming extinguished, and sometimes they seemed like the eyes of a dead man. Absurd fears tormented him. Without any visible cause he began to be afraid of one or another object. An idea somehow came into his head—and tormented him for several days—that they would cut his throat; he was afraid of everything sharp and hid the knives and the forks.
"Perhaps," he thought, "they've been bewitched by whispered spells. It might happen that I might cut myself with them."
"Why are there knives?" he asked Varvara. "Chinamen eat with chopsticks."
For a whole week after this they did not cook any meat, but lived on cabbage-soup and gruel.
Varvara, to get even with Peredonov for the troubles he had caused her before their wedding, sometimes agreed with him and encouraged him to think that his fancies and superstitions had a basis in reality. She told him that he had many enemies and that they had every reason to envy him. More than once she told Peredonov tauntingly that he had been informed against and slandered to the authorities and the Princess. And she rejoiced at his visible fear.
It seemed clear to Peredonov that the Princess was dissatisfied with him. Why couldn't she have sent him for his wedding an ikon or cake. He thought: Oughtn't he to earn her favour? But how? By falsehood? Should he slander someone, calumniate someone, inform against someone? He knew that all women love tittle-tattle—and so couldn't he invent something, something pleasant and risqué about Varvara and write it to the Princess? She would laugh and give him the place.
But Peredonov was not able to write the letter, and felt apprehensive about writing to a Princess. And later he forgot all about this scheme.
Peredonov gave ordinary visitors vodka and the cheapest port-wine. But he bought a three-rouble bottle of Madeira for the Head-Master. He considered this wine extremely expensive, kept it in his bedroom and showed it to his visitors, saying: