He caught up an earthenware saucepan which was on the ground near the hut, and retired behind the nets, whose grey folds completely hid him from view.
Malva and the lad followed him.
"Well, my fine young man, I have brought you to your father!" said Malva, eyeing Jakoff's robust figure.
He bent towards her his face, covered with its soft, fair beard, and said with sparkling eyes—
"Yes, here we are!... It's fine to be here.... What a stretch of sea!"
"Yes, the sea is wide.... And the old man? Has he changed much?"
"No ... no.... I thought he would be whiter, and he has scarcely any grey hairs.... And he's so ... strong!"
"How long is it since you have seen each other?"
"Five years, perhaps.... When he left the village, I was going on for seventeen."
They went into the hut, where the heat and the smell of the fish were stifling. They sat down—Jakoff on a great log of wood, and Malva on some sacks. Between them was a cask, sawn in half, the bottom half of which Vassili used as a table. When they were settled they looked at each other for some time without speaking.