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Updated: May 24, 2025
How terrible it all seemed! . . . AT first that is to say, until my mother and myself grew used to our new abode we found living at Anna Thedorovna's both strange and disagreeable. Although Anna lived in good style in far better style than might have been expected her means and her avocation were conjectural. Never was she at rest; never was she not busy with some mysterious something or other.
How it would all have ended I do not know, had not a curious incident helped to bring about a rapprochement. One evening, when my mother was sitting in Anna Thedorovna's room, I crept on tiptoe to Pokrovski's apartment, in the belief that he was not at home. Some strange impulse moved me to do so.
What I did next I scarcely know, for I had never before found myself in such a position; but I believe that I broke all restraints, and made the old man feel thoroughly ashamed of himself Thedora helping me in the task, and well-nigh turning him neck and crop out of the tenement. Neither of us doubt that this is Anna Thedorovna's work for how otherwise could the old man have got to know about us?
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