"Give me a drink." She rose and said: "I'll give you some ice water." But when she returned he was already asleep.

She stood over him for a minute, trying to breathe lightly.

The cup in her hand trembled, and the ice knocked against the tin.

Then, setting the cup on the table, she knelt before the sacred image upon the wall, and began to pray in silence.

The sounds of dark, drunken life beat against the window panes; an accordion screeched in the misty darkness of the autumn night; some one sang a loud song; some one was swearing with ugly, vile oaths, and the excited sounds of women's irritated, weary voices cut the air.
Life in the little house of the Vlasovs flowed on monotonously, but more calmly and undisturbed than before, and somewhat different from everywhere else in the suburb.
The house stood at the edge of the village, by a low but steep and muddy declivity.