“Don’t trouble to wipe your feet,” said Martin; “I’ll wipe up the floor—it’s all in the day’s work. Come, friend, sit down and have some tea.”
Filling two tumblers, he passed one to his visitor, and pouring his own out into the saucer, began to blow on it.
Stepánitch emptied his glass, and, turning it upside down, put the remains of his piece of sugar on the top. He began to express his thanks, but it was plain that he would be glad of some more.
“Have another glass,” said Martin, refilling the visitor’s tumbler and his own. But while he drank his tea Martin kept looking out into the street.
“Are you expecting anyone?” asked the visitor.
“Am I expecting anyone? Well, now, I’m ashamed to tell you. It isn’t that I really expect anyone; but I heard something last night which I can’t get out of my mind. Whether it was a vision, or only a fancy, I can’t tell. You see, friend, last night I was reading the Gospel, about Christ the Lord, how he suffered, and how he walked