"Do you feel the need of freedom? Do you like freedom?"

"How could I help liking it? One is his own master, goes where he
likes, and does what he pleases. If he succeeds in supporting himself
and has no weight dragging at his neck, what more can he ask? He can
have as good a time as he likes provided he doesn't forget God."

Tchelkache spat contemptuously and interrupted the boy's questions by
turning his back to him.

"Look at me, for instance," said the other, with sudden animation.
"When my father died, he left little. My mother was old, the land worn
out, what could I do? One must live. But how? I don't know. A
well-to-do family would take me in as a son-in-law, to be sure! If the
daughter only received her share! But no! The devil of a
father-in-law never wants to divide the property. So then, I must
toil for him . . . a long time . . . years. Do you see how it stands?
While if I could put by a hundred and fifty rubles, I should feel
independent and be able to talk to the old man. 'Will you give Marfa
her share?' No! 'All right! She's not the only girl in the village,
thank God.' And so I'd be perfectly free, my own master. Yes!" The
lad sighed. "As it is, there's nothing for it but to go into a family.
I've thought that if I were to go to Koubagne, I'd easily make two
hundred rubles. Then I should have a chance for myself. But no,
nothing has come my way, I've failed in everything! So now it's
necessary to enter a family, be a slave, because I can't get along with
what I have--impossible! Ehe! . . ."

The lad detested the idea of becoming the husband of some rich girl who
would remain at home. His face grew dull and sad. He moved restlessly