“We all for some reason recalled the fact that our friend Byelikov was not married, and it now seemed to us strange that we had hitherto failed to observe, and had in fact completely lost sight of, a detail so important in his life.  What was his attitude to woman?  How had he settled this vital question for himself?  This had not interested us in the least till then; perhaps we had not even admitted the idea that a man who went out in all weathers in goloshes and slept under curtains could be in love.

“‘He is a good deal over forty and she is thirty,’ the headmaster’s wife went on, developing her idea.  ‘I believe she would marry him.’

“All sorts of things are done in the provinces through boredom, all sorts of unnecessary and nonsensical things!  And that is because what is necessary is not done at all.  What need was there for instance, for us to make a match for this Byelikov, whom one could not even imagine married?  The headmaster’s wife, the inspector’s wife, and all our high-school ladies, grew livelier and even better-looking, as though they had suddenly found a new object in life.  The headmaster’s wife would take a box at the theatre, and we beheld sitting in her box Varinka, with such a fan, beaming and happy, and beside her Byelikov, a little bent figure, looking as though he had been extracted from his house by pincers.  I would give an evening party, and the ladies would insist on my inviting Byelikov and Varinka.  In short, the machine was set in motion.  It appeared that Varinka was not averse to matrimony.  She had not a very cheerful life with her brother; they could do nothing but quarrel and scold one another from morning till night.  Here is a scene, for instance.  Kovalenko would be coming along the street, a tall, sturdy young ruffian, in an embroidered shirt, his love-locks falling on his forehead under his cap, in one hand a bundle of books, in the other a thick knotted stick, followed by his sister, also with books in her hand.

“‘But you haven’t read it, Mihalik!’ she would be arguing loudly.  ’I tell you, I swear you have not read it at all!’

“‘And I tell you I have read it,’ cries Kovalenko, thumping his stick on the pavement.

“’Oh, my goodness, Mihalik! why are you so cross?  We are arguing about principles.’

“‘I tell you that I have read it!’ Kovalenko would shout, more loudly than ever.

“And at home, if there was an outsider present, there was sure to be a skirmish.  Such a life must have been wearisome, and of course she must have longed for a home of her own.  Besides, there was her age to be considered; there was no time left to pick and choose; it was a case of marrying anybody, even a Greek master.  And, indeed, most of our young ladies don’t mind whom they marry so long as they do get married.  However that may be, Varinka began to show an unmistakable partiality for Byelikov.

“And Byelikov?  He used to visit Kovalenko just as he did us.  He would arrive, sit down, and remain silent.  He would sit quiet, and Varinka would sing to him ‘The Winds do Blow,’ or would look pensively at him with her dark eyes, or would suddenly go off into a peal—­’Ha-ha-ha!’