have no shame! What are you going to do?"

"What should I do?" she said.

There was a ring of anguish, or vexation, in her voice.

"What you ought to do!" cried Vassili, seized suddenly with a fierce rage.

He felt a passionate desire to strike her, to knock her down and bury her in the sand, to kick her in the face, in the breast. He clenched his fists and looked back.

Yonder, near the barrels, he saw lakov and Serejka. Their faces were turned in his direction.

"Get away with you! I could crush you!"

He stopped and hissed insults in her face. His eyes were bloodshot, his beard trembled and his hands seemed to advance involuntarily to-