"As thou wilt, Semyónitch,"--replied Avdótya, sadly;--"thou knowest best about that." "Exactly so. Only, don't think that I am angry with thee, Aréfyevna. "No, what 's the use of being angry, when .... I ought to have discovered how things stood earlier in the day. I myself am to blame--and I am punished."--(Akím heaved a sigh.)--"As you have made your bed, so you must lie upon it.[44] I am advanced in years, and 't is time for me to be thinking of my soul. The Lord Himself has brought me to my senses. Here was I, seest thou, an old fool, who wanted to live at his ease with a young wife.... No, brother--old man, first do thou pray, and beat thy brow against the earth, and be patient, and fast.... And now, go, my mother. I am very tired and I will get a bit of sleep." And Akím stretched himself out, grunting on the bench. Avdótya started to say something, stood for a while gazing at him, then turned and went away.... "Well, did n't he thrash thee?"--Petróvitch asked her, as he sat, all bent double, on the earthen bank, when she came alongside of him. Avdótya passed him in silence.--"See there now, he did n't beat her,"--said the old man to himself, as he grinned, ruffled up his hair, and took a pinch of snuff. Akím carried out his purpose. He speedily put his petty affairs in order, and a few days after the conversation which we have transcribed, he went, already garbed for the journey, to bid farewell to his wife, who had settled for the time being in a tiny wing of the mistress's manor-house. Their leave-taking did not last long.... Kiríllovna, who chanced to be on hand, advised Akím to present himself to the mistress; and he did so. Lizavéta Prókhorovna received him with a certain amount of confusion, but affably permitted him to kiss her hand, and inquired where he was intending to betake himself? He replied that he was going first to Kíeff, and thence wherever God should grant. She lauded his purpose, and dismissed him. From that time forth he rarely made his appearance at home, although he never forgot to bring his mistress a blessed bread with a particle taken out for her health....[45] But, on the other hand, everywhere where devout Russians congregate, his gaunt and aged but still comely and sedate face was to be seen: at the shrine of St. Sergius, and on the White Shores, and in the Óptin Hermitage, and in distant Valaám.[46] He went everywhere.... This year he passed you in the ranks of the countless throng which marched in a procession of the cross behind the holy picture of the Birth-giver of God at the Korennáya Hermitage;[47] next year you would find him sitting with his wallet on his back, along with other pilgrims on the porch of St. Nicholas the Wonder-Worker in Mtzensk.... He made his appearance in Moscow nearly every spring.