“I was asleep,” he said, and by the sound of his voice she knew that he was smiling.
“Well, can I get out?” he asked.
“No! the Cossack is here;” and, saying this, she glanced at the Cossack sleeping in the cart.
And, strange to say, though the Cossack was snoring, his kind blue eyes were open. He looked at her, and only when their glances met did he shut his eyes again.
“Was it only my fancy, or was he really awake?” Albína asked herself. “It must have been my fancy,” she thought, and again turned to the box.
“Bear it a bit longer,” she said. “Do you want something to eat?”
“No; I want to smoke.”
Albína looked at the Cossack. He was asleep.
“Yes, I only fancied it,” she thought.
“Now I shall go and see the Governor.”
“Well, then, good luck to you!”
Albína took a dress from her portmanteau and went into the inn to change the one she was wearing.
Dressed in her best widow’s mourning, Albína crossed the Vólga. Hiring an isvóztchik on the quay, she drove to the Governor’s. The Governor received her. The pretty, smiling Polish widow, speaking excellent French, pleased the would-be-young old Governor very much. He granted all she asked, and bade her call again next day, to receive an order to the Mayor of Tsarítsin.