at the Tsybukins'.

Indoors the tables were already covered with long fish, smoked hams,
stuffed fowls, boxes of sprats, pickled savouries of various sorts,
and a number of bottles of vodka and wine; there was a smell of smoked
sausage and of sour tinned lobster. Old Tsybukin walked about near the
tables, tapping with his heels and sharpening the knives against each
other. They kept calling Varvara and asking for things, and she was
constantly with a distracted face running breathlessly into the kitchen,
where the man cook from Kostukov's and the woman cook from Hrymin
Juniors' had been at work since early morning. Aksinya, with her hair
curled, in her stays without her dress on, in new creaky boots, flew
about the yard like a whirlwind showing glimpses of her bare knees and
bosom.

It was noisy, there was a sound of scolding and oaths; passers-by
stopped at the wide-open gates, and in everything there was a feeling
that something extraordinary was happening.

"They have gone for the bride!"

The bells began jingling and died away far beyond the village....
Between two and three o'clock people ran up: again there was a jingling
of bells: they were bringing the bride! The church was full, the
candelabra were lighted, the choir were singing from music books as old
Tsybukin had wished it. The glare of the lights and the bright coloured
dresses dazzled Lipa; she felt as though the singers with their loud
voices were hitting her on the head with a hammer. Her boots and the
stays, which she had put on for the first time in her life, pinched her,
and her face looked as though she had only just come to herself after
fainting; she gazed about without understanding. Anisim, in his black
coat with a red cord instead of a tie, stared at the same spot lost
in thought, and when the singers shouted loudly he hurriedly crossed
himself. He felt touched and disposed to weep. This church was familiar
to him from earliest childhood; at one time his dead mother used to
bring him here to take the sacrament; at one time he used to sing in the
choir; every ikon he remembered so well, every corner. Here he was being
married, he had to take a wife for the sake of doing the proper thing,
but he was not thinking of that now, he had forgotten his wedding
completely. Tears dimmed his eyes so that he could not see the ikons,
he felt heavy at heart; he prayed and besought God that the misfortunes
that threatened him, that were ready to burst upo