“It’s just as you please, Vasíli Andréevich. If we’re to go, let us go,” said Nikíta, taking the glass of tea he was offered.

“We’ll drink our tea and be off.”

Nikíta said nothing but only shook his head, and carefully pouring some tea into his saucer began warming his hands, the fingers of which were always swollen with hard work, over the steam. Then, biting off a tiny bit of sugar, he bowed to his hosts, said, “Your health!” and drew in the steaming liquid.

“If somebody would see us as far as the turning,” said Vasíli Andréevich.

“Well, we can do that,” said the eldest son. “Petrúshka will harness and go that far with you.”

“Well, then, put in the horse, lad, and I shall be thankful to you for it.”

“Oh, what for, dear man?” said the kindly old woman. “We are heartily glad to do it.”