“Your husband’s sleeping sweetly . . . he must be dreaming,” he muttered, pressing her hand at parting.

“I don’t like to hear silly remarks. . . .”

“What silly remarks?  On the contrary, it’s not silly at all . . . even Shakespeare said:  ‘Happy is he who in his youth is young.’”

“Let go of my hand.”

At last after much talk and after kissing the lady’s hand at parting, the customers went out of the shop irresolutely, as though they were wondering whether they had not forgotten something.

She ran quickly into the bedroom and sat down in the same place.  She saw the doctor and the officer, on coming out of the shop, walk lazily away a distance of twenty paces; then they stopped and began whispering together.  What about?  Her heart throbbed, there was a pulsing in her temples, and why she did not know. . . .  Her heart beat violently as though those two whispering outside were deciding her fate.

Five minutes later the doctor parted from Obtyosov and walked on, while Obtyosov came back.  He walked past the shop once and a second time. . . .  He would stop near the door and then take a few steps again.  At last the bell tinkled discreetly.

“What?  Who is there?” the chemist’s wife heard her husband’s voice suddenly.  “There’s a ring at the bell, and you don’t hear it,” he said severely.  “Is that the way to do things?”

He got up, put on his dressing-gown, and staggering, half asleep, flopped in his slippers to the shop.

“What . . . is it?” he asked Obtyosov.

“Give me . . . give me four pennyworth of peppermint lozenges.”

Sniffing continually, yawning, dropping asleep as he moved, and knocking his knees against the counter, the chemist went to the shelf and reached down the jar.

Two minutes later the chemist’s wife saw Obtyosov go out of the shop, and, after he had gone some steps, she saw him throw the packet of peppermints on the dusty road.  The doctor came from behind a corner to meet him. . . .  They met and, gesticulating, vanished in the morning mist.

“How unhappy I am!” said the chemist’s wife, looking angrily at her husband, who was undressing quickly to get into bed again.  “Oh, how unhappy I am!” she repeated, suddenly melting into bitter tears.  “And nobody knows, nobody knows. . . .”

“I forgot fourpence on the counter,” muttered the chemist, pulling the quilt over him.  “Put it away in the till, please. . . .”

And at once he fell asleep again.