Malva laughed.
"It's hot," said Iakov, sitting beside them.
"I've been waiting for you since this morning, Iakov. The inspector told me you were coming."
The young man thought his voice seemed weaker than usual and his face seemed changed. He asked Serejka for a cigarette.
"I have no tobacco for an imbecile like you," replied the latter, without stirring.
"I'm going back home, Iakov," said Vassili, gravely digging into the sand with his fingers.
"Why," asked the son, innocently.
"Never mind why, shall you stay?"
"Yes. I'll remain. What should we both do at home?"
"Very well. I have nothing to say. Do as you please. You are no longer a child. Only remember that I shall not get about long. I shall live, perhaps, but I do not know how long I shall work. I have lost the habit of the soil. Remember, too, that your mother is there."