Not for one instant did it come home to her that she had part in his guilt: not in the least! When she thought of him, it was but to mourn that he had so greatly changed, and her feelings on that score became so strong that she cared for him ever less and less. At times, when embraced by him, she would stiffen suddenly, as if struck dead by a thunderbolt. She let him kiss her—for how could she resist such a dragon of a man? Moreover, she felt young, full-blooded, of lively temperament ... and his kisses were so violent, they well-nigh choked her. So, in spite of all, she would still give him her love with the mighty elemental craving of the earth that thirsts eternally for warm rain and sunshine; but yet her inner self was no more at his feet, driven by that former uncontrollable impulse; she was no more given up to that blind rapture which once upon a time had made her feel nigh death; she was nevermore again to be so frantically lovesick. At such times, her thoughts would fly to the hut, to her work, to some new invention to spite her husband; and at times she even thought: “When will this man leave me and go away?” These thoughts about him were in her mind as she was working to keep the water out of the potato-pits. Her work was only for the eye, and as in duty bound. Pete toiled with a will, battling noisily with the mud and the frozen earth; she worked that Boryna might see her. No sooner had he left the place than she put her apron over her head, and went cautiously round to the stile, close to Ploshka’s barn. There stood Antek. “I have been waiting an hour for you,” he said reproachfully. “No need to wait at all, if they want you anywhere,” she rapped out, in no pleasant humour. He caught her in a powerful grasp, and gave her a kiss. She turned from him in disgust. “Ye reek of vodka like a barrel of the same.” “Are ye so dainty that my lips offend you now?” “’Twas but the vodka that I had in mind,” she answered in a gentler tone. “I was here yestereve. Wherefore did ye not come?” “It was cold; and besides, I am over head and ears in work.” “And you have to fondle the old man,” Antek growled, “and tuck him up in bed!” “Why not?” she replied testily. “He is my husband.” “Yagna, do not provoke me!” “If my words vex you, why come at all? Think not that I shall weep for you!” “Ah, that means you do not care to come any more.” “Not if I am to be treated as a dog, and always chid.” “Yagna, I have so many troubles of my own that ’tis no great wonder if a harsh word drops from me now and then; but I mean no offence,” he said humbly, gathering her in his arms. She, however, remained frigid and sulky, and only unwillingly returned his kisses. At every word she spoke, she looked around, seeking to go home. This he was not slow to note, and a nettle thrust into his bosom would not have stung him more. He whispered, in a tone of timid reproach: “You were not always in such a hurry!”