"And how about sins?"—that was the next idea that got into his head, and he bethought him of his drunkenness, of the money he had squandered, of his bad treatment of his wife, of his cursing and swearing, of his neglect of church-going, of his non-observance of the fasts, and of all that the priest had talked to him about at confession. "Yes, there are sins, certainly. But did I saddle myself with them, to begin with? Did not God make me just as I am? Still, they are sins all the same, no doubt. How will you get rid of them?"
Thus, then, did he think of what might happen to him that night, and decided the matter by abandoning himself freely to those random reflections and recollections which chanced to come into his head. And he called to mind the coming of Marfa, and the drunkenness of the workpeople, and his own renunciation of drink, and the present expedition, and the room at the Tarases, and the talk about the division of the property. And he called to mind his little one, and Brownie, who was now growing warm beneath the horse-cloth, and his master who made the sledge creak as he turned and twisted. "I suppose now he is in a pretty fume because he came here," thought he. "He doesn't like dying out of such a life as his is—our brother[1] is in a very different boat." And all these thoughts and recollections began to mingle and mix together in his head, and he fell asleep.
When Vasily Andreich had got astride the horse, £ind jolted the sledge, and the back part of it against which Nikita was leaning was shoved aside altogether
- ↑ Himself.
62
