"I said, 'The Lord have mercy on her soul!'"
"Oh!—yes—yes! She is dead," said the cobbler. Then he turned suddenly on his heel and went out.
"A strange man," muttered Terenti, shaking his head. Ilya, too, found the cobbler's behaviour very strange. On his way to school he went for a moment into the cellar to see the dead woman. It was all dark and stuffy; the women had come from the attics and were talking half aloud in a group round the death-bed. Matiza was dressing the little Masha and asked her:
"Does it catch you under the arm?"
And Masha, standing with her arms stretched out sideways said crossly:
"Yes—ye—es!"
The cobbler sat bent forward at the table and looked at his daughter, his eye blinking all the time. Ilya gave a glance at the pale, swollen face of the dead; he remembered her dark eyes, now closed for ever, and went out with a painful gnawing feeling at his heart.
When he returned from school and went into the bar room, he heard Perfishka playing the harmonica and singing in a merry tone:
"Ah, my bride, my only dear,
My heart is gone, I sadly fear,
Why have you stolen it away,
And where on earth is it to-day?"
"Oh yes! the women have turned me out!—get out, you villain, they screamed—old tippler, they called me. But I don't mind a bit. I'm a patient lamb. Blackguard me as much as you like, hit me if you like. Only let me live a little—just a little if you please. Aha! my brothers, every man likes to enjoy his life, eh? Call it Vaska, call it Jakov, the soul's the same all the time."