His old mother, without her kerchief, her grey hair all in disorder and her head shaking, tottered into the room, and, without looking either at Kornéy or at Martha, went to her granddaughter, who was weeping desperately, and lifted her up.

Kornéy stood breathing heavily, looking about as if he had just woke up and did not know where he was or who was with him.

Martha raised her head, and groaning, wiped some blood from her face with her sleeve.

“Hateful brute!” said she. “Yes, I am living with Justin, and have lived with him!⁠ ⁠… There, now, kill me outright!⁠ ⁠… And Agatha is not your daughter, but his!⁠ ⁠…” and she quickly covered her face with her elbow, expecting a blow.

But Kornéy seemed not to understand anything, and only sniffed and looked about him.