“I have already ordered the samovar to be lit. I’ll see to it at once. Do you want it brought here?⁠ ⁠… Be quick and finish your lesson, Pímotchka, and let’s have a run.”

And Lisa went to the door.

“Lisa, Lizzie!” said her uncle, looking intently at his fork, “I think I’ve again dropped a stitch⁠—pick it up, ducky.”

“Directly, directly! I’ll only give a loaf of sugar to be broken up.”

And really, three minutes later, she ran back, went to her uncle and pinched his ear.

“That’s for dropping your stitches!” she said, laughing, “and you have not done your task!”

“Now then, never mind, never mind. Put it right⁠—there’s a little knot of some kind.”