He rose and moved away. But he was mistaken in saying that he did not need her, for when away from her he felt lonely. A strange feeling had come to him after their conversation, a secret desire to protest against the father. Only yesterday this feeling had not existed, nor even to-day, before he saw Malva. Now it seemed to him that his father embarrassed him and stood in his way, although he was far away over the sea yonder, on a narrow tongue of sand almost invisible to the eye. Then it seemed to him, too, that Malva was afraid of the father; if she were not afraid she would talk differently. Now she was missing in his life while only that morning he had not thought of her.
And so he wandered for several hours along the beach, stopping here and there to chat with fishermen he knew. At noon he took a siesta under the shade of an upturned boat. When he awoke he took another stroll and came across Malva far from the fishing ground, reading a tattered book under the shade of the willows.
She looked up at Iakov and smiled.
"Ah, there you are," he said, sitting down beside her.
"Have you been looking for me long?" she asked, demurely.
"Looking for you? What an idea?" replied Iakov, who was only just beginning to realize that it was the truth.
"Do you know how to read?" she asked.
"Yes—I used to, but I've forgotten everything."
"So have I."
"Why didn't you go to the headland to-day?" asked Iakov, suddenly.