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"Listen, Akim Semyonitch. I know you have always been a sensible man. Such is the mistress's will and there is no changing it. You can't alter that. Whatever you and I might say about it would make no difference, would it?" Akim put his arm behind his back. "You'd better think," Kirillovna went on, "shouldn't you ask the mistress to let you off your yearly payment or something?"
Zaikin peeped out of his study and saw his wife, Nadyezhda Stepanovna, healthy and rosy as ever; with her he saw Olga Kirillovna, a spare woman with fair hair and heavy freckles, and two unknown men: one a lanky young man with curly red hair and a big Adam's apple; the other, a short stubby man with a shaven face like an actor's and a bluish crooked chin.
Kirillovna, who happened to be present, advised Akim to see his mistress; he did so, Lizaveta Prohorovna received him with some confusion but graciously let him kiss her hand and asked him where he meant to go. He answered he was going first to Kiev and after that where it would please the Lord. She commended his decision and dismissed him.
"I don't know what he wants," answered Kirillovna in an insinuating voice, "only I think he wants to buy something from you." Lizaveta Prohorovna went back into the drawing-room, sat down in her usual seat an armchair with a canopy over it, upon which a climbing plant twined gracefully and gave orders that the merchant should be summoned. Naum appeared, bowed, and stood still by the door.
What is one to do! what is one to do, Lizaveta Kirillovna! he repeated several times. 'And now indeed, she went on in a lifeless voice, 'I should die, I think, if it were not for you. It's you alone that keep me up; besides, you remind me of him.... You knew all about it, you see. Do you remember how fine he was that day.... But forgive me; it must be hard for you.... 'Go on, go on! Nonsense!
Seeing them, Avdotya could not restrain her tears; they simply spurted from her red and swollen eyes. She sank, helpless, on the first chair that offered itself. Someone ran to fetch Kirillovna. Kirillovna came, was very friendly to her, but kept her from seeing the mistress just as she had Akim.
'Arrived yesterday evening, I'm told. I offered him a room here, but he refused. He seems a very nice fellow, though. 'Has he been long with you? 'About an hour. He asked me to introduce him to Olimpiada Nikitishna. 'And did you introduce him? 'Of course. 'And Lizaveta Kirillovna, too, did he ... 'He made her acquaintance, too, of course. I was silent for a space.
Lizaveta Prohorovna walked up and down the room once or twice and rang the bell again. This time a page appeared. She told him to fetch Kirillovna. A few moments later Kirillovna came in with a faint creak of her new goatskin shoes. "Have you heard," Lizaveta Prohorovna began with a forced laugh, "what this merchant has been proposing to me? He is a queer fellow, really!" "No, I haven't heard.
"Because . . . because . . . you and I are not wanted. . . . We have nowhere to sleep even." "Father, and why is it Olga Kirillovna has freckles on her face?" "Oh, shut up! I am tired of you."
For a long time Pavel Matveyitch heard Koromyslov's nasal reciting and Smerkalov's theatrical exclamations. . . . The rehearsal was followed by a long conversation, interrupted by the shrill laughter of Olga Kirillovna. Smerkalov, as a real actor, explained the parts with aplomb and heat. . . .
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