"And I, who do I fear?" said Jakoff, blusteringly. She did not answer him; she followed with her eyes the play of the waves, as they swung the heavy boat backwards and forwards. The mast inclined sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, and the bows rose, and then fell, striking the water. The noise it made was violent, and seemed almost angry, as if the boat wished to tear itself away from the shore, and float out and away into the wide free sea, and was vexed with the cable which prevented its doing so. "Why don't you go?" Malva asked Jakoff. "Where should I go?" he replied. "You were going to the town." "I shan't go." "Then go and see your father." "And you?" "What about me?" "Will you come too?" "No." "Then I shan't go either." "Shall you stay tied to my apron-strings all day?" she asked. "I don't want you as much as all that," he replied offended. And he rose and left her. But he made a mistake when he said that he did not need her. He was bored when she was not near. A strange sentiment seemed to have taken possession of him since their conversation, an obscure desire to protest against his hither, a sort of hidden discontent Yesterday he did not remember having this feeling; nor did he have it to-day before he had seen Malva. And now it seemed to him that his father was in his way, although he was far away out there, on a stretch of sand, almost lost to view.... Then it seemed to him that Malva was afraid of his father; if she had not been afraid, their conversation would have been quite different Now he seemed to want her, though this morning he had not been thinking about her. He wandered about on the beach, watching with a melancholy eye the passers-by, speaking to them sometimes in a listless voice.... Here in the shade of a boat he finds Sereja seated on a barrel. He is thrumming the cords of a balalaika, and singing, accompanying his song with quaint grimaces-- "Kind constable, Be gentle with me. Take me to the police-station, For I'm afraid of falling into the mud." A dozen workmen, as tattered as he is, surround him, and all like him smell of salt fish and of saltpetre. Four dirty ugly women, stretched on the sand not far from the group, are drinking tea, which they prepare in a great iron saucepan. And a workman, already drunk, though it is still early in the morning, tries to get on his legs and falls down again. A woman laughs and cries; some one plays on a broken accordion; everywhere there is the sparkle of fish-scales. At noon Jakoff found a sheltered place between the piles of empty barrels, lay down there and slept till the evening. When he woke up he wandered about without any fixed plan, though he seemed vaguely attracted by something unknown. After two hours' walking about, he found Malva some way from the fishery, under the shade of some young willow trees. She was lying on her side, and held in her hand a well-thumbed book; with a smile she watched Jakoff approach.