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

“What are you reading, Fedya?” Katerina Lvovna asked, sitting down in the armchair.

“I’m reading the Lives, auntie.”

“Interesting?”

“Very interesting, auntie.”

Katerina Lvovna propped her head on her hand and began watching Fedya’s moving lips, and suddenly it was as if demons came unleashed, and all her former thoughts descended on her of how much evil this boy had caused her and how good it would be if he were not there.

“But then again,” thought Katerina Lvovna, “he’s sick; he’s being given medications… anything can happen in illness… All you have to say is that the doctor prescribed the wrong medicine.

“Is it time for your medicine, Fedya?”

“If you please, auntie,” the boy replied and, having swallowed the spoonful, added: “It’s very interesting, auntie, what’s written about the saints.”

“Read, then,” Katerina Lvovna let fall and, passing her cold gaze around the room, rested it on the frost-patterned windows.

“I must tell them to close the shutters,” she said and went out to the drawing room, and from there to the reception room, and from there to her room upstairs, and sat down.

Some five minutes later Sergei silently came to her upstairs, wearing a fleece jacket trimmed with fluffy sealskin.

“Have they closed the shutters?” Katerina Lvovna asked him.

“Yes,” Sergei replied curtly, removed the snuff from the candle with a pair of snuffers, and stood by the stove.

Silence ensued.

“Tonight’s vigil won’t be ending soon?” asked Katerina Lvovna.

“It’s the eve of a great feast; they’ll make a long service of it,” replied Sergei.

Again there was a pause.

“I must go to Fedya: he’s there alone,” Katerina Lvovna said, getting up.

“Alone?” asked Sergei, glancing sidelong at her.

“Alone,” she replied in a whisper, “what of it?”

And between their eyes flashed something like a web of lightning, but they did not say a word more to each other.

Katerina Lvovna went downstairs, walked through the empty rooms: there was total silence everywhere; the icon lamps burned quietly; her own shadow flitted over the walls; the windows behind their closed shutters began to thaw out and weep. Fedya sits and reads. Seeing Katerina Lvovna, he only says:

“Auntie, please take this book, and give me, please, that one from the icon shelf.”

Katerina Lvovna did as her nephew asked and handed him the book.