And how could one help wishing to see the lady in Akoulína’s cubicle? It was just like the coloured lights at the end of a performance. It must be an important occasion, since they burnt the coloured fires; and so it must be an important occasion when the lady in her silk and lace entered Akoulína’s cubicle.

The lady came up and took Akoulína’s hand, but Akoulína snatched it away. The old domestic serfs shook their heads reprovingly.

“Akoulína!” said the lady. “You have your children⁠—have pity on yourself!”

Akoulína burst out laughing and got up.

“My children are all silver, all silver! I don’t keep any paper money,” she muttered very quickly. “I told Polikéy, ‘Take no notes,’ and there, now, they’ve buttered him, buttered him up with tar⁠—tar and soap, madam! Whatever rash you may have, it will pass at once⁠ ⁠…” and she laughed still louder.