"How must I speak to you?" she asked, laughing.
"And now you are laughing ... what about?"
"I'm laughing at you...."
"What have I done?" he asked crossly.
And again he dropped his eyes before her glance.
She did not reply.
Jakoff had a very shrewd idea of what her relations with his father were, and that prevented him from speaking openly. He was not in the least astonished; he had heard it said, that when people worked far away from the village they lost their habits of respectability; and besides it would have been difficult for a strong man like his father to do without a woman for such a long time. But nevertheless he felt awkward both on her account, and on that of his father. And then he remembered once more his mother, harassed and complaining, who was working over there without rest or help.
"The soup is ready!" Vassili announced, standing at the door of the hut. "Give us the spoons, Malva."
Jakoff looked at his father and thought—
"One can see she comes here often, for she knows where everything is."