"Get away!"—he shouted fiercely, repulsing her.
"Whither art thou going?"—Efrém asked him, perceiving that he was taking his seat again beside him.
"Why, thou didst offer to drive me to the inn,"—said Akím:—"so drive me to thy house.... I have none any more, seest thou. They have bought it from me, you know."
"Well, all right, let 's go to my house. And how about her?"
Akím made no answer.
"And me, me,"—chimed in Avdótya, weeping;—"to whose care dost thou leave me .... whither am I to go?"
"Go to him,"—returned Akím, without turning round:—"to the man to whom thou didst carry my money... Drive on, Efrém!"
Efrém whipped up the horse, the cart rolled off, and Avdótya set up a shrill scream....
Efrém lived a verst from Akím's inn, in a tiny cot in the priest's glebe, disposed around the solitary five-domed church, which had recently been erected by the heirs of a wealthy merchant, in conformity with his testamentary dispositions. Efrém did not speak to Akím all the way, and only shook his head from time to time, uttering words of the following nature: "Akh, thou!" and, "Ekh, thou!" Akím sat motionless, slightly turned away from Efrém. At last they arrived. Efrém sprang out first from the cart. A little girl of six years in a little chemise girt low ran out to meet him, and screamed:
"Daddy! daddy!"