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.