Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk and Other Stories / Леди Макбет Мценского уезда и другие повести. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Meanwhile, Katerina Lvovna, having rolled up the sleeves of her bed jacket and tucked her skirt up high, was carefully washing off with a soapy sponge the bloodstain left by Zinovy Borisych on the floor of his bedroom. The water was not yet cold in the samovar from which Zinovy Borisych had steamed his little merchant’s soul in poisoned tea, and the stain was washed away without a trace.

Katerina Lvovna took the copper basin and soapy sponge.

“Light, here,” she said to Sergei, going to the door.

In only two places on the painted floor were there two tiny spots the size of a cherry. Katerina Lvovna rubbed them with the sponge and they disappeared.

“That’ll teach you not to sneak up to your wife like a thief and spy on her,” said Katerina Lvovna, straightening up and glancing in the direction of the larder.

“Finished off,” said Sergei, and he jumped at the sound of his own voice.

When they returned to the bedroom, a thin red strip of dawn was cutting across the east and, lightly gilding the blossom-covered apple trees, peeked through the green slats of the garden fence into Katerina Lvovna’s room.

The old clerk, a short coat thrown over his shoulders, crossing himself and yawning, came trudging through the yard from the shed to the kitchen.

Katerina Lvovna carefully drew the shutter closed and looked Sergei over attentively, as if she wished to see into his soul.

“So now you’re a merchant,” she said, laying her white hands on Sergei’s shoulders.

Sergei made no reply.

His lips were trembling, he was shaking feverishly. Katerina Lvovna’s lips were merely cold.

After two days, Sergei had big callouses on his hands from the pick and heavy spade; but Zinovy Borisych was laid away so nicely in his cellar that, without the help of his widow or her lover, no one would have been able to find him before the general resurrection.

Chapter Nine

Sergei went around with his neck wrapped in a crimson kerchief and complained of a swelling in his throat. Meanwhile, before the traces left on Sergei by Zinovy Borisych’s teeth had healed, Katerina Lvovna’s husband was missed. Sergei himself began speaking of him even more often than others.