proprietress. It stuck out as stiff as if it were made of bark, and was a thorn in the neighbours’ eyes; her hair was shining; she had smeared half an inch of tallow candle on to it. Her shoes, though not new, were respectable. Mary was still wrapped in the old jacket, and was covered with mud; and Annie would not let her come near for fear of getting dirtied. Mary was outside. She saw her father drive up, bringing a sack.
“Daddy has come!” she shrieked, and rushed headlong in at the door, past Annie, dirtying her. Annie, no longer fearing the dirt, went for her at once and hit her. Akoulína could not leave her work, and only shouted at the children: “Now, then … I’ll whip you all!” and glowered round at the door.
Polikéy came in with the bag, and at once passed through to his own cubicle.
It seemed to Akoulína that he was pale, and his face looked as if he were either smiling or crying, but she had no time to find out which it was.
“Well, Polikéy, is it all right?” she called to him from the oven.
Polikéy muttered something that she did not understand.
“Eh?” she cried. “Have you been to the mistress?”
Polikéy was sitting on the bed in their cubicle, looking wildly round him, and smiling his guilty, deeply sorrowful smile. He did not answer for a long time.
“Eh, Polikéy? Why so long?” came Akoulína’s voice.
“Yes, Akoulína, I have handed the lady her money. How she thanked me!” he said suddenly, and began looking round and smiling still more uneasily. Two things attracted his feverishly staring eyes: the baby, and a rope attached to the cradle.