But it was not all right.  Driving from his house in the morning, to pay a visit, he thought that he was compelled to it by conventions of society, which weighed heavily upon him.  But now it was clear to him that he went to pay calls only because somewhere far away in the depths of his soul, as under a veil, there lay hidden a hope that he would see Nadya....  And he suddenly felt pitiful, sad, and a little frightened....

* * * * *

In his soul, it seemed to him, it was snowing, and everything faded away.  He was afraid to love Nadya, because he was too old for her, thought his appearance unattractive, and did not believe that young girls like Nadya could love men for their minds and spiritual qualities.  Still there would at times rise in him something like a hope.  But now, from the moment when the officer’s spurs jingled and then died away, there also died away his timid love....  All was at an end, hope was impossible....  “Yes, now all is finished,” he thought, “I am glad, very glad.”

* * * * *

He imagined his wife to be not Nadya, but always, for some reason, a stout woman with a large bosom, covered with Venetian lace.

* * * * *

The clerks in the office of the Governor of the island have a drunken headache.  They long for a drink.  They have no money.  What is to be done?  One of them, a convict who is serving his time here for forgery, devises a plan.  He goes to the church, where a former officer, now exiled for giving his superior a box on the ears, sings in the choir, and says to him panting:  “Here!  There’s a pardon come for you!  They have got a telegram in the office.”

The late officer turns pale, trembles, and can hardly walk for excitement.

“But for such news you ought to give something for a drink,” says the clerk.

“Take all I have!  All!”

And he hands him some five roubles....  He arrives at the office.  The officer is afraid that he may die from joy and presses his hand to his heart.

“Where is the telegram?”

“The bookkeeper has put it away.” (He goes to the bookkeeper.) General laughter and an invitation to drink with them.

“How terrible!”

After that the officer was ill for a week.[1]

[Footnote 1:  An episode which Chekhov heard during his journey in the island, Saghalien.]

* * * * *

Fedya, the steward’s brother-in-law, told Ivanov that wild-duck were feeding on the other side of the wood.  He loaded his gun with slugs.  Suddenly a wolf appeared.  He fired and smashed both the wolf’s hips.  The wolf was mad with pain and did not see him.  “What can I do for you, dear?” He thought and thought, and then went home and called Peter....  Peter took a stick, and with an awful grimace, began to beat the wolf....  He beat and beat and beat until it died....  He broke into a sweat and went away, without saying a single word.