Annie, as the eldest, had greased her hair and dressed herself without help. She wore a new but crumpled print dress⁠—a present from the 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.