e and long one; it stretched for nearly two miles to the right and
as far to the left, and the end of it was out of sight. The moon was
now not over the yard, but behind the church. One side of the street was
flooded with moonlight, while the other side lay in black shadow. The
long shadows of the poplars and the starling-cotes stretched right
across the street, while the church cast a broad shadow, black and
terrible that enfolded Dyudya's gates and half his house. The street
was still and deserted. From time to time the strains of mu sic floated
faintly from the end of the street--Alyoshka, most likely, playing his
concertina.

Someone moved in the shadow near the church enclosure, and Sofya could
not make out whether it were a man or a cow, or perhaps merely a big
bird rustling in the trees. But then a figure stepped out of the shadow,
halted, and said something in a man's voice, then vanished down the
turning by the church. A little later, not three yards from the gate,
another figure came into sight; it walked straight from the church to
the gate and stopped short, seeing Sofya on the bench.

"Varvara, is that you?" said Sofya.

"And if it were?"

It was Varvara. She stood still a minute, then came up to the bench and
sat down.

"Where have you been?" asked Sofya.

Varvara made no answer.

"You'd better mind you don't get into trouble with such goings-on, my
girl," said Sofya. "Did you hear how Mashenka was kicked and lashed with
the reins? You'd better look out, or they'll treat you the same."

"Well, let them!"

Varvara laughed into her kerchief and whispered:

"I have just been with the priest's son."

"Nonsense!"

"I have!"

"It's a sin!" whispered Sofya.

"Well, let it be.... What do I care? If it's a sin, then it is a sin,
but better be struck dead by thunder than live like this. I'm young and
strong, and I've a filthy crooked hunchback for a husband, worse than
Dyudya himself, curse him! When I was a girl, I hadn't bread to eat, or
a shoe to my foot, and to get away from that wretchedness I was tempted
by Alyoshka's money, and got caught like a fish in a net, and I'd rather
have a viper for my bedfellow than that scurvy Alyoshka. And what's your
life? It makes me sick to look at it. Your Fyodor sent you packing from
the factory and he's taken up with another woman. They have robbed you
of your boy and made a slave of him. You work like a horse, and never
hear a kind word. I'd rather pine a