"However, see that he doesn't spoil Tanushka, too!" said the baker, suddenly, with anxiety.
We all became silent, dumb-founded by these words. We had somehow forgotten Tanya; it looked as though the soldier's massive, handsome figure prevented us from seeing her. Then began a noisy dispute. Some said that Tanya would not submit herself to this, others argued that she would not hold out against the soldier; still others said that they would break the soldier's bones in case he should annoy Tanya, and finally all decided to look after the soldier and Tanya, and to warn the girl to be on guard against him This put an end to the dispute.
About a month went by. The soldier baked white bread, walked around with the embroidery girls, came quite often to our workshop, but never told us of his success with the girls; he only twisted his moustache and licked his lips with relish.
Tanya came every morning for the biscuits and, as always, was cheerful, amiable, kind to us. We attempted to start a conversation with her about the soldier, but she called him a "goggle-eyed calf," and other funny names, and this calmed us. We were proud of our little girl, seeing that the embroidery girls were making love to the soldier. Tanya's relation toward him somehow uplifted all of us, and we, as if guided by her relation, began to regard the soldier with contempt. And we began to love Tanya still more, and, meet her in the morning more cheerfully and kind-heartedly.
But one day the soldier came to us a little intoxicated, seated himself and began to laugh, and when we asked him what he was laughing at he explained: "Two had a fight on account of me Lidka and Grushka How they disfigured each other! Ha, ha! One grabbed the other by the hair, and knocked her to the ground in the hallway, and sat on her Ha, ha, ha! They scratched each other's faces It is laughable! And why cannot women fight honestly? Why do they scratch? Eh?"
He sat on the bench, strong and clean and jovial; talking and laughing all the time. We were silent. Somehow or other he seemed repulsive to us this time.
"How lucky I am with women, Eh? It is very funny! Just a wink and I have them!"
His white hands, covered with glossy hair, were lifted and thrown back to his knees with a loud noise. And he stared at us with such a pleasantly surprised look, as though he really could not understand why he was so lucky in his affairs with women. His stout, red face was radiant with happiness and self-satisfaction, and he kept on licking his lips with relish.
Our baker scraped the shovel firmly and angrily against the hearth of the oven and suddenly said, sarcastically:
"You need no great strength to fell little fir-trees, but try to throw down a pine.".
"That is, do you refer to me?" asked the soldier.
"To you.."
"What is it?"
"Nothing Too late!"
"No, wait! What's the matter? Which pine?"
Our baker did not reply, quickly working with his shovel at the oven. He would throw into the oven the biscuits from the boiling kettle, would take out the ready ones and throw them noisily to the floor, to the boys who put them on bast strings. It looked as though he had forgotten all about the soldier and his conversation with him. But suddenly the soldier became very restless. He rose to his feet and walking up to the oven, risked striking his chest against the handle of the shovel, which was convulsively trembling in the air.
"No, you tell me who is she? You have insulted me I?.. Not a single one can wrench herself from me, never! And you say to me such offensive words.".. And, indeed, he looked really offended. Evidently there was nothing for which he might respect himself, except for his ability to lead women astray; it may be that aside from this ability there was no life in him, and only this ability permitted him to feel himself a living man.
There are people to whom the best and dearest thing in life is some kind of a disease of either the body or the soul. They make much of it during all their lives and live by it only; suffering from it, they are nourished by it, they always complain of it to others and thus attract the attention of their neighbors. By this they gain people's compassion for themselves, and aside from this they have nothing. Take away this disease from them, cure them, and they are rendered most unfortunate, because they thus lose their sole means of living, they then become empty. Sometimes a man's life is so poor that he is involuntarily compelled to prize his defect and live by it. It may frankly be said that people are often depraved out of mere weariness. The soldier felt insulted, and besetting our baker, roared:
"Tell me who is it?"
"Shall I tell you?" the baker suddenly turned to him.
"Well?"
"Do you know Tanya?"
"Well?"
"Well, try.".
"I?"
"You!"
"Her? That's easy enough!"
"We'll see!"
"You'll see! Ha, ha!"
"She'll.."
"A month's time!"
"What a boaster you are, soldier!"
"Two weeks! I'll show you! Who is it? Tanya! Tfoo!".
"Get away, I say."
"Get away you're bragging!"
"Two weeks, that's all!"
Suddenly our baker became enraged, and he raised the shovel against the soldier. The soldier stepped back, surprised, kept silent for awhile, and, saying ominously, in a low voice: "Very well, then!" he left us.
During the dispute we were all silent, interested in the result. But when the soldier went out, a loud, animated talk and noise was started among us.
Some one cried to the baker:
"You contrived a bad thing, Pavel!"
"Work!" replied the baker, enraged.
We felt that the soldier was touched to the quick and that a danger was threatening Tanya. We felt this, and at the same time we were seized with a burning, pleasant curiosity what will happen? Will she resist the soldier? And almost all of us cried out with confidence:
"Tanya? She will resist! You cannot take her with bare hands!"
We were very desirous of testing the strength of our godling; we persistently proved to one another that our godling was a strong godling, and that Tanya would come out the victor in this combat. Then, finally, it appeared to us that we did not provoke the soldier enough, that he might forget about the dispute, and that we ought to irritate his self-love the more. Since that day we began to live a particular, intensely nervous life a life we had never lived before. We argued with one another all day long, as if we had grown wiser. We spoke more and better. It seemed to us that we were playing a game with the devil, with Tanya as the stake on our side. And when we had learned from the bulochniks that the soldier began to court "our Tanya," we felt so dreadfully good and were so absorbed in our curiosity that we did not even notice that the proprietor, availing himself of our excitement, added to our work fourteen poods (a pood is a weight of forty Russian pounds) of dough a day. We did not even get tired of working. Tanya's name did not leave our lips all day long. And each morning we expected her with especial impatience. Sometimes we imagined that she might come to us and that she would be no longer the same Tanya, but another one.
However, we told her nothing about the dispute. We asked her no questions and treated her as kindly as before. But something new and foreign to our former feelings for Tanya crept in stealthily into our relation toward her, and this new something was keen curiosity, sharp and cold like a steel knife.
"Fellows! Time is up to-day!" said the baker one morning, commencing to work.
We knew this well without his calling our attention to it, but we gave a start, nevertheless.