“He was a good-hearted Russian.... He had pushed Rogov away a little while before, but afterwards he thought no more of it. ‘What do you want?’ he asked. ‘Come here, it’s something that concerns you. You’ll thank me for it.’
“I’ll confess, something warned me. I felt like calling to Rogov and stopping him, for I was sure he was up to some mischief. But it was after the Alcibiades episode ... and I had no hope in my influence. I stayed at the window. I saw Gavrilo leave his shovel, go up and listen. At first his face showed that he did not comprehend and almost did not care. Then, with the same air of uncertainty, he took off his apron, went into the house, put on his cap and rejoined Rogov. Both walked down the street and turned down the hill toward the river. A moment later Yelena came out to the gate, stood and looked after the two men.... Her eyes looked sad and frightened....
“From that day on Gavrilo’s character changed sharply. He came back apparently rather drunk.... Perhaps from vodka, perhaps from the weight of an unbearable burden which Rogov had suddenly put on his shoulders.... In the first place, the amount was absolutely staggering: a mountain of money more than he could count. Then the source of the wealth reminded him of Yelena’s past. Finally he couldn’t understand why she had never mentioned it and this may have given rise to evil suspicions.... You see it was like an explosion in his mind.... Those two lines which M. Budnikov had made on the ticket kept sinking deeper and deeper into Gavrilo’s soul.... The simple-hearted man was absolutely upset. The whole symphony of directness and labor was suddenly interrupted.... Gavrilo wandered around in confusion, as if he had been poisoned....
“It began to break him down.... At first he walked about grimly with his face clouded. His work began to fall from his hands: he threw down his axe and broke his spade.... Just like a well-built machine into which some one has hurled a bolt.... When Budnikov in surprise began to administer mild rebukes, that shovels cost money and he would have to take it out of Gavrilo’s wages, that easy-going man answered with unintelligible and unreasonable rudeness.... And Yelena wept more and more....
“Then Gavrilo began to drink and carouse and his usual abode became the dirty den, the ‘Crags’ on the bank, on the sand near the wharf.... This was a small wooden house with a second floor, dark, tilting to one side and propped up with beams. You could see it from the bank; evenings there were usually two lighted windows and the open door, cymbals clashed, and there was a lot of fiddling to amuse the guests.... From time to time, you could hear confused shouts—both songs and quarrels and calls for the police. It was an eternally restless place and rather threatening. The very antithesis of the drowsy country life.... Bargemen from our modest and usually idle wharf, workmen from the brickyards like moles which had burrowed in the damp clay, professional beggars ... in a word, the homeless, unfortunate, dissipated, and evil. Even the decent members of the proletariat shunned this place. And that’s where Rogov took Gavrilo. And Yelena was the next to learn the road to the ‘Crags’ so as to bring her husband home....
“She did this surprisingly modestly, quietly, yes, even beautifully. Once I was coming home from my lessons and as I entered the gate I saw Yelena running toward me and fastening a kerchief on her head.
“‘Where are you going, Yelena?’
“A moment’s hesitation.
“‘You haven’t seen Gavrilo Stepanich go this way, have you?’ she asked.
“‘He must have.... But you shouldn’t go there, Yelena.’