“Then Doútlof’s decided on.”
The lady clasped her hands together.
“How is it you don’t understand? Do I wish Doútlof ill? Have I anything against him? God is my witness, I am prepared to do anything for them. …” (She glanced at a picture in the corner, but recollected that it was not an icon.) “Well, never mind … that’s not to the point,” she thought. And again, strange to say, the idea of the three hundred roubles did not occur to her. … “Well, what can I do? What do I know about it? It’s impossible for me to know. Well, then, I rely on you—you know my wishes. … Act so as to satisfy everybody and according to the law. … What’s to be done? They are not the only ones: everybody has times of trouble. Only, Polikoúshka can’t be sent. You must understand that it would be dreadful of me to do such a thing. …”
She was roused, and would have continued speaking for a long time had not one of her maidservants entered the room at that moment.
“What is it, Dounyásha?”
“A peasant has come to ask Egór Miháylovitch if the Meeting is to wait for him,” said Dounyásha, and glanced angrily at Egór Miháylovitch. (“Oh, that steward!” she thought; “he’s upset the mistress. Now she’ll not let one get a wink of sleep till two in the morning!”)
“Well then Egór, go and do the best you can.”
“Yes, madam.” He did not say anything more about Doútlof. “And who is to go to the fruit merchant to fetch the money?”
“Has not Peter returned from town?”
“No, madam.”
“Could not Nicholas go?”