"You are not coming then?" said Vassili out loud. "All right, I don't want you!... You needn't think I do!..."
And he spat contemptuously in the direction of the shore.
The sea laughed.
Vassili rose and went towards the hut with the intention of cooking his dinner, though he had no sensation of hunger; he went back to his former place, and lay down again.
"If only Sereja would come!" he cried to himself; and he tried to think only of Sereja....
"What a poisonous lad it was though!... He was strong, knew how to read, had travelled ... but he was a drunkard. There was no being dull with him ... women were mad about him, and although he had only been here a short time they were all running after him. Only Malva seemed to keep clear of him; she doesn't seem to be coming after all.... Devil take the girl! Perhaps she is angry with me for having beaten her? ... But it could have been nothing new for her. Others must have knocked her about ... And it won't be the last beating she gets from me."
Divided thus between thoughts of his son, of Sereja, and most often of Malva, Vassili tossed about on the sand, and waited. Vague disquietude turned into suspicion, but on this he would not allow himself to dwell. He hid from himself his distrust. He got through his time till the evening, sometimes rising and walking backwards and forwards on the sand, sometimes lying down again. He was still watching in the hopes of seeing the boat, when the surface of the sea began to darken.
But Malva did not come on that Sunday either. And as he lay down to sleep, Vassili cursed his work, which prevented his going to the mainland, and he awoke constantly with a start, thinking he heard in the distance the sound of oars. Then he would shield his eyes with his hand and watch the troubled dark sea. Over there, where the fishery was established, two fires burnt, but no one was coming over the sea.
"It's all very well, my girl!" said Vassili threateningly. And he went off into a heavy sleep.
What had happened at the fishery during that day was this. Jakoff rose early before the sun was up, and whilst a fresh, life-giving breeze was blowing from the sea. He walked from the hut towards the water in order to get a wash, and on the shore he saw Malva. She was seated in the bows of a big boat which was anchored close in to the shore, whilst with her bare feet hanging over the sides, she was combing out her wet hair.