“Look, Gavrelo, at your home.” She pointed to a hut across the great field. In one of the two dingy windows a young girl could be seen, though vaguely, at a spinning-board. “There is your home. Moldy and rotten, it is sinking to the ground. You were supposed to have built twenty years ago, soon after we were married. All you have built are barns. There they stand, shaming your house. And there is your daughter, as pretty as the prettiest in Sabinka, in that rotting home. Yet, Gavrelo, have I ever pestered you about it? But now it is about Natalka that I beg you.” Her clumsy little body leaned toward him. But her voice became more patient, more restrained. “Gavrelko!” She used the diminutive, and then stood dumbly looking down a moment. Yes, she could have cared for him if he had let her. “Gavrelko, you are not going to send Natalka away without a portion to her husband’s home, a strange home in a strange village! You are not going to do it!” Dumb and silent, Gavrelo’s scowl never relaxed. It was always so, always--except--except when he stood looking at his fields--at his wheat. Then his furrowed face smoothed and the light in his eyes reflected the light in the fields. Gavrelo now selected a long pole, sharpened it, and began driving it into the ground. “Hagh!” his breath echoed, and the pole sank deep into the earth. “And you have so much, Gavrelo.” She glanced about. Their hut stood a good distance away from the village, and all surrounding it was Gavrelo’s. “All that, all about us is yours, and your barns are stacked with wheat. You will not send Natalka away with empty hands.” Her own clasped in agony. “You won’t do it. I know, Gavrelo, how bitter it is to come with empty hands.” Her head drooped, her voice sank low. “I know how it is. I came to your home, Gavrelo, without a portion. My people were very poor. You have never thrown it up to me, Gavrelo, but your mother cast it in my face every day as long as she lived. And I was never able to lift my head.” Gavrelo’s face was turned from her, and he worked on steadily. “And Natalka, too, is marrying into a large family. It is perhaps a disadvantage to marry into a large family. There are so many to find fault with your ways, a mother-in-law and sisters-in-law and brothers-in-law. All watching and criticizing you. And when you have come without a portion--Ach! Gavrelko! They will throw it up to her, the mother-in-law and the sisters-in-law--and--and even Simyonka--Simyonka is a fine fellow. And yet--in a quarrel--would he not remember?” She began to weep passionately. “You won’t do it, Gavrelo. And Natalka has really earned it. You know how she can spin and weave. Her cloth is straight and fine. And during the harvest she has been among the quickest hands. You won’t bring this shame upon her, Gavrelo!”