“There is not enough room to turn around as it is. Take her to the ‘black’ room,” said a woman.

“This comes straight from Madame Chalmé,” said a young lackey, pointing to the iris design on Tíkhonovna’s peasant coat, “and the pretty stockings and shoes.”

He pointed to her leg-rags and bast shoes, which were new, as she had specially put them on for Moscow.

“Parásha, you ought to have such.”

“If you are to go to the ‘black’ room, all right; I will take you there.” And the old man stuck in his awl and got up; but, on seeing a little girl, he called her to take the old woman to the black room.