Little White Manya and Tamara looked at Jennie with wonder, but, noting the evil little lights leaping in her eyes and her nervously quivering nostrils, they both understood and smiled. Little White Manya, laughing, shook her head reproachfully. Jennie always had such a face when her turbulent soul sensed that a scandal was nearing which she herself had brought on.

Zoe shuffles the old, black, greasy cards, allows Manya to cut, then deals, having first spat upon her fingers. Tamara in the meanwhile is narrating to Manya in a quiet voice, without dropping her sewing. "We embroidered with gold, in flat embroidery altar covers, palls, bishops' vestments... With little grasses, with flowers, little crosses.

In the general drawing room they made things up between them, and after ten minutes Zociya, the housekeeper, shoved in her little, squinting, pink, cunning face through the half-open door of the private room. "Jennechka," she called, "go, they have brought your linen, go count it. And you, Niura, the actor begs to come for just a minute, to drink some champagne. He's with Henrietta and Big Manya."

"Of course, you'd be ashamed...How do you like it, daddy, with light or without light? I'll turn, down the lantern a little. All right?" "Well, and aren't you bored here? What do they call you?" "Manya. To be sure I'm bored. What sort of a life is ours!" The German kissed her hard on her lips and again asked: "And do you love the men? Are there men who please you? Who afford you pleasure?"

Jennie suddenly cries out. "I can't look at you without disgust. You're a bitch! In your place, if I was such a miserable thing, I'd rather lay hands on myself, strangle myself with a cord from my corset. You vermin!" Tony the Potato. Trans. Pasha silently lowers her eyelashes over her tear-filled eyes. Manya tries to defend her. "Really, what are you carrying on like that for, Jennechka?

Masha Shelestov was the youngest of the family; she was eighteen, but her family could not get used to thinking that she was not a little girl, and so they still called her Manya and Manyusa; and after there had been a circus in the town which she had eagerly visited, every one began to call her Marie Godefroi. "Hop-la!" she cried, mounting Giant.

And unexpectedly, having embraced Manya by the shoulders and bosom, she drew her toward herself, threw her down on the bed, and began to kiss deeply and vigorously her hair, eyes, lips. Manka with difficulty tore herself away from her, with dishevelled, bright, fine, downy hair, all rosy from the resistance, and with eyes downcast and moist from shame and laughter.

"Leave off, Jennechka, leave off. Well, now, what are you doing? Let me go!" Little Manya is the meekest and quietest girl in the entire establishment. She is kind, yielding, can never refuse anybody's request, and involuntarily everybody treats her with great gentleness.

The Epilogue The sacrificer speaks: Who has magnified you here, O Maruts? Come hither, O friends, towards your friends. Ye brilliant Maruts, welcoming these prayers, be mindful of these my rites. The wisdom of Mânya has brought us hither, that he should help as the poet helps the performer of a sacrifice: turn hither quickly! Maruts, on to the sage! the singer has recited these prayers for you.

On the 9th, soon after leaving camp, we left the travelled path, and made for a gap in the are of hills before us, as Pumburu was at war with the people of Manya Msenge, a district of northern Kawendi. The country teemed with game, the buffaloes and zebras were plentiful.