Stop it, stepanova. Ivanovna closed her eyes when she said it. It’s terrible, but where’s Daimov?
What about Daimov? What about Daimov? What about Daimov? What about me? I love the beautiful scenery of the Volga River and the moon. I’m infatuated here. There’s nothing about Daimov. Alas, I don’t know anything. I don’t need to go there. Please give me a moment.
Stepanova Ivanov’s heart beat violently. She thought about her husband, but she felt that all the past marriages, Daimov’s family parties were insignificant, ambiguous and necessary to appear very far away. The fact is that Daimov is nothing, Daimov is nothing, and she has nothing to do with Daimov. Is Daimov really a person or is he a dream?
In fact, for an ordinary and ordinary person like him, he has got enough happiness. She hid her face with her hands and thought, Let others condemn and curse. I would rather destroy it like this, and I would rather destroy everything in my life and experience it. God, how horrible and wonderful it is
Oh, well, well, murmured the painter. He hugged her and kissed her hand greedily, and she tried to push him. Do you love me? Do you love me? What a quiet and wonderful night.
It was a wonderful night. She whispered and looked at his eyes full of tears and sparkled, then quickly turned around and hugged him and kissed him warmly.
The ship is approaching Kineshma, and the other side of the deck shouted.
People can hear heavy footsteps coming from the canteen and passing by.
Listen to me, stepanova Ivanovna said she was so happy that she laughed and cried to get the wine.
The painter turned pale with excitement, sat on the bench and looked at stepanova Ivanovna with love and gratitude. Later, he closed his eyes and smiled lazily and said
I’m tired.
He leaned his head against the railing.
five
On September 2nd, it was warm and calm, but it was gloomy. In the early morning, the fog rose in the Volga River, and then it began to drizzle after nine o’clock. It seems that it has not cleared up. I hope that when I have tea, Riabov said to Ivanovna in stepanova that painting is the most difficult and boring art, and that he was not a painter. Only a fool recognized his talent. Suddenly, he grabbed a knife and cut himself with one of the best paintings. After morning tea, he sat by the window and looked at the Volga River gloomily, but the Volga River was no longer sparkling. It’s cloudy and gloomy, and everything looks cold. Everyone thinks that it’s rainy and gloomy. Autumn is coming. It seems to be a string of green carpet rivers on both sides of the strait. The blue sky is bright and bright. The colorful and pleasing scenery of the Volga River has now made the creator go back and hide in the box for next spring. Crows near the Volga River are circling and laughing at it. Riabov, listening to their noise, silently thought that he has only died in Jiang Lang. Everything is relatively stupid. He shouldn’t let himself be bound by this woman. He is always in a bad mood and depressed.
Stepanova Ivanovna sat behind the partition, her fingers combed her flaxen hair, and sometimes she imagined herself in the living room, sometimes in the bedroom and sometimes in her husband’s room, and she was taken to the theater, to the seamstress and to the famous friends’ homes. What are they doing now? Do they still remember her? It’s time to think about a party in the season. What about Daimov? He loves Moff. In every letter, he begged her to go home early like a child. Every month, he sent her seventy-five roubles. Next time, she wrote to tell him that she owed one hundred rubles to several painters, and soon he really sent the money to them. What a generous and kind person! The travel life made Ivanovna in stepanova exhausted. She was tired of wanting to get away from these villagers and get rid of the feeling of physical filth. This feeling of being dirty was that she moved from one village to another and lived in a farmhouse all the time. If only Riabov had promised that he would stay here with those painters until September 20, she would have left here today.
Oh, my God, Riabov groaned, when will the sun shine? Without the sun, my sunny landscape painting will be painted.
Don’t you return a picture with a cloudy sky? stepanova Ivanovna said from a distance, remember? On the right side of the foreground is a group of cows and geese on the left. Now you can finish it.
Hum, the painter frowned and finished painting. Are you and I so stupid that we don’t know what we should do?
Your attitude towards me has changed a lot. Olga Ivanovna sighed.
Hey, that’s good
Stepanova Ivanov’s face convulsed and she went to the stove and began to cry.
Yeah, all I need now is tears. Forget it. I cry for thousands of reasons, but I just don’t cry.
Tens of millions of stepanova Ivanovna sobbed that the root cause is that you have regarded me as a burden. When she finished, she enlarged and cried. To be honest, you are ashamed of our love now. You tried your best to prevent being known by those painters. In fact, they already knew it.
Stepanova, I ask you one thing, the painter begged. Put one hand on his chest and ask one thing. Don’t torture me again. Besides, I don’t ask you anything.
Then swear that you still love me.
This is so torturous that the painter gritted his teeth and said slowly that he jumped up so that I could jump into the Volga River in the end or go crazy. Please spare me.
Ok, kill me. Kill me, stepanova Ivanovna. Get up and do it.
She burst into tears again and ran back across the street. The rain hit the hay top of the farmhouse, and Sasha Riabov walked around the hut with his head in his arms. Later, he seemed to want to prove to someone what he was wearing a hat and carrying a shotgun.
After he left, stepanova Ivanovna lay in bed and cried for a long time. Her first thought was that it was best to bring her back with poison. Riabov’s imagination found her dead and took her home to the living room and her husband’s room. She imagined that she was sitting motionless beside Daimov, enjoying physical and mental peace and cleanliness. At night, she sat in the theater and listened to Masini sing. She missed Wen, missed the prosperity of the city and missed those celebrities. She was so sad that she came in. A peasant woman made a stove and cooked in a hurry. The smoky smell was turned into light blue by smoke. The painters came back, their boots were covered with mud, and their faces were hung with rain. They analyzed the paintings and said consolingly that the Volga River was attractive even in bad weather. The cheap wall clock was ticking on the wall, and the frozen flies were buzzing in the corner where the icon was placed. Cockroaches could be heard crawling around in the thick cardboard at the bottom of the bench.