"Did they go and join the brigands?"
"Maybe, or they may have become hermits. We did not inquire into the matter then."
Grandmother crossed herself.
"Holy Mother of God! When one thinks of people, one cannot help being sorry for them."
"We are all given the same powers of reason, you know, where the devil draws."
We entered the forest by a wet path between marshy hillocks and frail fir-trees. I thought that it must be lovely to go and live in the woods as Kyril of Poreshka had done. There are no chattering human creatures there, no fights or drunkenness. There I should be able to forget the repulsive greediness of grandfather and mother's sandy grave, all of which things hurt me, and weighed on my heart with an oppressive heaviness. When we came to a dry place grandmother said:
"We must have a snack now. Sit down."
In her basket there were rye bread, onions, cucumbers, salt, and curds wrapped in a cloth. Grandfather looked at all this in confusion and blinked.
"But I did not bring anything to eat, good Mother."
"There is enough for us all."