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"We don't wear," repeated Colibri, and, suddenly starting, looked back over her shoulder. "Would you like me to sing?" she asked hurriedly. Kuzma Vassilyevitch put the cross in the pocket of his uniform and he, too, looked round. "What is it?" he muttered.
"Look what I am going to show you," he said aloud. "Tso?" "Why do you say tso? Are you a Pole?" "Nee." "Now you say nee! But there, it's no matter." Kuzma Vassilyevitch got out his present and waved it in the air. "Look at it.... Isn't it nice?" Colibri raised her eyes indifferently. "Ah! A cross! We don't wear." "What? You don't wear a cross? Are you a Jewess then, or what?"
Olga Petrovna grew pale. "Come!" she said in a low voice, wringing her hands. "I have him hid in the bath house! Only for heaven's sake, do not tell Kuzma Petrovitch. I beg and implore you! He will never forgive me!" Olga Petrovna took down a big key from the wall, and led her guests through the kitchen and passage to the courtyard. The courtyard was in darkness. Fine rain was falling.
"I should be delighted," answered Kuzma Vassilyevitch. "But why do you look like that, as though you were grieving? You'd better have some sorbet." "No ... you. And I will again.... It will be more merry." She sang another song, that sounded like a dance, in the same unknown language. Again Kuzma Vassilyevitch distinguished the same guttural sounds.
"It's a regular dagger, it's a sting.... Yes, yes, it's your sting, and you are a wasp, that's what you are, a wasp, do you hear?" Apparently Colibri was much pleased at Kuzma Vasselyevitch's comparison; she went off into a thin laugh and repeated several times over: "Yes, I will sting ... I will sting." Kuzma Vassilyevitch looked at her and thought: "She is laughing but her face is melancholy.
Colibri freed her plaits which she was holding tight with her knees and with one of them gave him a flick on his hand. "Not so fast, sir!" Kuzma Vassilyevitch was embarrassed. "What eyes she has, the rogue!" he muttered, as though to himself. "But," he went on, raising his voice, "why did you call me ... if that is how it is?" Colibri craned her neck like a bird ... she listened.
Another week passed. Kuzma Vassilyevitch was so much better that the doctors found it possible to tell him what had happened to him. This is what he learned.
“She has been there, sir. She stayed a little while, and went off again.” “What? Went away?” cried Mitya. “When did she go?” “Why, as soon as she came. She only stayed a minute. She only told Kuzma Kuzmitch a tale that made him laugh, and then she ran away.” “You’re lying, damn you!” roared Mitya. “Aie! Aie!” shrieked the old woman, but Mitya had vanished.
Kuzma Vassilyevitch lodged a formal complaint; proceedings were taken. Several numbered reports and instructions were dispatched in various directions; the appropriate acknowledgments and replies followed in due course.... There the incident closed.
Kuzma Vassilyevitch put a lump of sugar in the cup and drank it off at one draught. The coffee struck him as very strong and bitter. Colibri looked at him, smiling, and faintly dilated her nostrils over the edge of her cup. She slowly put it down on the table. "Why don't you drink it?" asked Kuzma Vassilyevitch. "Not all, now." Kuzma Vassilyevitch got excited. "Do sit down beside me, at least."
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