“We go on in the same old way,” she answered; and snatching up her two-year-old daughter, who was pulling at her skirts and asking for milk, she went with large firm strides back into the passage.

Kornéy’s mother (whose black eyes resembled her son’s) entered the room, dragging her feet in their thick felt boots.

“Glad you’ve come to see us,” said she, nodding her shaking head.

Kornéy told his mother what business had brought him, and remembering Kouzmá, went out to pay him.

Hardly had he opened the door into the passage, when, right in front of him by the door leading into the yard, he saw Martha and Justin. They were standing close together, and she was speaking to him. Seeing Kornéy, Justin scuttled into the yard, and Martha went up to the samovar standing there, and began adjusting the roaring chimney put on to make it draw.