"Checkov, Anton - The Wife And Other Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chekhov Anton)

Dismissing Alexey, I put out the light and drew the bedclothes
over my head.

"After all, why am I so troubled?" I thought. "What force draws
me to the starving peasants like a butterfly to a flame? I don't
know them, I don't understand them; I have never seen them and I
don't like them. Why this uneasiness?"

I suddenly crossed myself under the quilt.

"But what a woman she is!" I said to myself, thinking of my wife.
"There's a regular committee held in the house without my
knowing. Why this secrecy? Why this conspiracy? What have I done
to them? Ivan Ivanitch is right -- I must go away."

Next morning I woke up firmly resolved to go away. The events of
the previous day -- the conversation at tea, my wife, Sobol, the
supper, my apprehensions -- worried me, and I felt glad to think
of getting away from the surroundings which reminded me of all
that. While I was drinking my coffee the bailiff gave me a long
report on various matters. The most agreeable item he saved for
the last.

"The thieves who stole our rye have been found," he announced
with a smile. "The magistrate arrested three peasants at Pestrovo
yesterday."

"Go away!" I shouted at him; and a propos of nothing, I picked up
the cake-basket and flung it on the floor.

IV

After lunch I rubbed my hands, and thought I must go to my wife
and tell her that I was going away. Why? Who cared? Nobody cares,
I answered, but why shouldn't I tell her, especially as it would
give her nothing but pleasure? Besides, to go away after our
yesterday's quarrel without saying a word would not be quite
tactful: she might think that I was frightened of her, and
perhaps the thought that she has driven me out of my house may
weigh upon her. It would be just as well, too, to tell her that I
subscribe five thousand, and to give her some advice about the
organization, and to warn her that her inexperience in such a
complicated and responsible matter might lead to most lamentable
results. In short, I wanted to see my wife, and while I thought
of various pretexts for going to her, I had a firm conviction in
my heart that I should do so.

It was still light when I went in to her, and the lamps had not
yet been lighted. She was sitting in her study, which led from
the drawing-room to her bedroom, and, bending low over the table,