“And whatever Kukin said about the theater and actors, she repeated. She despised the public just as he did, for its ignorance and indifference to art; she interfered at rehearsals, corrected the actors, looked after the conduct of the musicians, and when the local newspaper spoke disapprovingly of the theater, she wept, and then went to the editorial offices for an explanation.”

These lines show the extent of Olga’s emotional investment in Kukin, setting the pattern for her subsequent series of dependent relationships. She doesn’t just mimic his opinions and behavior out of convention or habit, but fully dedicates herself to them. As an instance of dramatic irony, the reader is aware of how inauthentic this behavior seems, whereas for Olga it is profound and necessary.

“Olenka gained weight and was all radiant with contentment, while Kukin grew skinnier and yellower and complained about terrible losses, though business was not bad all winter.”

The juxtaposition between Olga gaining weight and looking “radiant” and Kukin becoming “skinnier and yellower” emphasizes the difference between their characters. For Olga to be happy, she needs someone to love, and who that person is—whether wealthy or not—doesn’t matter, whereas Kukin is beset by worries about money, regardless of his business’s performance.

“But on the eve of Holy Monday, late at night, there suddenly came a sinister knocking at the gate; someone banged on the wicket as on a barrel: boom! boom! boom!”

These lines represent a swerve in the narrative tone from realistic to gothic, foreshadowing the story’s ending. Gothic fiction deals with fear, and the messenger’s news that Kukin is dead fulfills Olga’s deepest fear of all: a return to the Isolation and Despair she experiences when she is alone, without a love object from whom to derive her life’s meaning.