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On holidays she used to dress up like a peasant girl, and it suited her so well." Doctor Sergey Borisovitch was at home; he was a stout, red-faced man, wearing a long coat that reached below his knees, and looking as though he had short legs. He was pacing up and down his study, with his hands in his pockets, and humming to himself in an undertone, "Ru-ru-ru-ru."
"Ru-ru-ru-ru," he hummed louder than ever, and turning into the drawing-room, gave his hand to Laptev, and asked: "What good news have you to tell me?" It was dark in the drawing-room.
I fear our night-shelter will fall into the hands of our pious humbugs and philanthropic ladies, who always ruin any undertaking." Yulia Sergeyevna got up and held out her hand to Laptev. "Excuse me," she said, "it's time for me to go. Please give my love to your sister." "Ru-ru-ru-ru," hummed the doctor. "Ru-ru-ru-ru."
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