The flush on her cheeks grew more and more marked, her chest heaved. In another minute she would have been ready to make a scene. Many of the visitors were sniggering, evidently delighted. They began poking the commissariat clerk and whispering something to him. They were evidently trying to egg him on.

“Allow me to ask what are you alluding to,” began the clerk, “that is to say, whose⁠ ⁠… about whom⁠ ⁠… did you say just now⁠ ⁠… But I don’t care! That’s nonsense! Widow! I forgive you.⁠ ⁠… Pass!”

And he took another drink of vodka.