"So that means it's all over, Nadezhda Vassilyevna? Ah! If so," said he waving his hand, "then may God be good to you, Nadezhda Vassilyevna. It means that is my miserable fate. Ah! A youth loved a maiden and she did not love him. God sees all! Ah, well, I'll grieve and that's all." "You're rejecting a good man and you don't know what sort you may get," persisted Peredonov. "Ah!" exclaimed Volodin once more and turned to the door. But suddenly he decided to be magnanimous and returned to shake hands with the young woman and even with the juvenile offender Misha. * * * * * In the street Peredonov grumbled angrily. All the way Volodin complained bleatingly in an offended voice. "Why did you give up your lessons?" growled Peredonov. "You must be a rich man!" "Ardalyon Borisitch, I only said that if this is so I ought to give them up, and she said to me that I needn't give them up, and as I replied nothing then it follows that she begged me to continue. And now it all depends upon me--if I like, I'll refuse; if I like, I'll continue them." "Why should you refuse?" said Peredonov. "Keep on going as if nothing had happened." "Let him at least get something out of this--he'll have less cause for envy," thought Peredonov. Peredonov felt terribly depressed. Volodin was not yet settled. "If I don't keep a look-out on him he may begin plotting with Varvara. Besides, it's possible that Adamenko will have a grudge against me for trying to marry her to Volodin. She has relatives in Peterburg; she might write to them and hurt my chances." The weather was unpleasant. The sky was cloudy; the crows flew about cawing. They cawed above Peredonov's head, as if they taunted him and foreboded new and worse disappointments. Peredonov wrapped his scarf round his neck and thought that in such weather it was easy to catch cold. "What sort of flowers are those, Pavloushka?" he asked as he pointed out to Volodin some small yellow flowers by a garden fence. "That's _liutiki_,[1] Ardasha," said Volodin sadly. Peredonov recalled that many such flowers grew in his own garden, and what a terrible name they had! Perhaps they were poisonous. One day Varvara would take a handful of them and boil them instead of tea, and would poison him--then when the inspector's certificate arrived, she would poison him and make Volodin take his place. Perhaps they had already agreed upon it. It was not for nothing that he knew the name of this flower. In the meantime Volodin was saying: