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“But is her husband in prison?” the matter-of-fact Kostya inquired gravely. “Or, I tell you what,” Nastya interrupted impulsively, completely rejecting and forgetting her first hypothesis. “She hasn’t a husband, you are right there, but she wants to be married, and so she’s been thinking of getting married, and thinking and thinking of it till now she’s got it, that is, not a husband but a baby.”
“I’ll give you a little shot; here, take it, but don’t show it to your mother till I come back, or she’ll be sure to think it’s gunpowder, and will die of fright and give you a thrashing.” “Mother never does whip us,” Nastya observed at once. “I know, I only said it to finish the sentence. And don’t you ever deceive your mother except just this once, until I come back.
The moon illumined her charming little lips, now turned blue by the cold of the night. Recognizing me she smiled; but I was in no mood to linger with her. "Good night, Nastya!" I said, and passed on. She was about to make some answer, but only sighed.
And so, kiddies, can I go out? You won’t be frightened and cry when I’m gone?” “We sha—all cry,” drawled Kostya, on the verge of tears already. “We shall cry, we shall be sure to cry,” Nastya chimed in with timid haste. “Oh, children, children, how fraught with peril are your years! There’s no help for it, chickens, I shall have to stay with you I don’t know how long.
They took themselves off, and I continued my way with greater caution, and at length arrived at my lodgings without mishap. I was living with a certain old Cossack underofficer whom I loved, not only on account of his kindly disposition, but also, and more especially, on account of his pretty daughter, Nastya. Wrapped up in a sheepskin coat she was waiting for me, as usual, by the wicket gate.
The dog leapt up like a mad creature and rushed bounding before him rapturously. Kolya opened the door to peep at “the kids.” They were both sitting as before at the table, not reading but warmly disputing about something. The children often argued together about various exciting problems of life, and Nastya, being the elder, always got the best of it.
If Nastya and Borya made the acquaintance of the Chinese, they would leave donkeys alone, and transfer their affection to the Chinese. They are charming tame animals. ... When I invited a Chinaman to the refreshment bar to treat him to vodka, before drinking it he held out the glass to me, the bar-keeper, the waiters, and said: "Taste." That's the Chinese ceremonial.
“And have you got any powder?” Nastya inquired. “Yes.” “Show us the powder, too,” she drawled with a smile of entreaty. Krassotkin dived again into his satchel and pulled out a small flask containing a little real gunpowder. He had some shot, too, in a screw of paper. He even uncorked the flask and shook a little powder into the palm of his hand.
Kostya stared at Nastya and listened, pondering profoundly. “Nastya, how silly you are!” he said at last, firmly and calmly. “How can Katerina have a baby when she isn’t married?” Nastya was exasperated. “You know nothing about it,” she snapped irritably. “Perhaps she has a husband, only he is in prison, so now she’s got a baby.”
Nastya, the elder, a girl of eight, could read, and Kostya, the boy, aged seven, was very fond of being read to by her. Krassotkin could, of course, have provided more diverting entertainment for them. He could have made them stand side by side and played soldiers with them, or sent them hiding all over the house.
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