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Updated: June 6, 2025
"Only fancy!" answered Ignat, surprised at the broadening grin on his face in the mirror. "Impudence! Impudence!" they heard behind them the voice of Mavra Kuzminichna who had entered silently. "How he's grinning, the fat mug! Is that what you're here for? Nothing's cleared away down there and Vasilich is worn out. Just you wait a bit!"
'Have you heard, said one, 'that the cadet quartered on Elias Vasilich has thrown a fifty-ruble horse at Lukashka? He's rich! ... 'Yes, I heard of it, replied another profoundly, 'he must have done him some great service. We shall see what will come of this cadet. Eh! what luck that Snatcher has! 'Those cadets are crafty, awfully crafty, said a third.
Mavra Kuzminichna flicked the dust off the clavichord and closed it, and with a deep sigh left the drawing room and locked its main door. Going out into the yard she paused to consider where she should go next to drink tea in the servants' wing with Vasilich, or into the storeroom to put away what still lay about. She heard the sound of quick footsteps in the quiet street.
"I see you were right, but just take out the top one." "I won't!" cried Natasha, with one hand holding back the hair that hung over her perspiring face, while with the other she pressed down the carpets. "Now press, Petya! Press, Vasilich, press hard!" she cried. The carpets yielded and the lid closed; Natasha, clapping her hands, screamed with delight and tears fell from her eyes.
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