MALVA
cult for a man like his father to have been long without a companion.
"The soup is ready," announced Vassili, at the threshold of the cabin. "Get the spoons, Malva."
When she found the spoons she said she must go down to the sea to wash them.
The father and son watched her as she ran down the sands and both were silent.
"Where did you meet her?" asked Vassili, finally.
"I went to get news of you at the office. She was there. She said to me: 'Why go on foot along the sand? Come in the boat. I'm going there.' And so we started."
"And—what do you think of, her?"
"Not bad," said Iakov, vaguely, blinking his eyes.
"What could I do?" asked Vas-
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