by the peasants, in payment of debts which they could never shake off. He was a widower, with four grownup daughters. * One of them was already a widow and lived in the inn with her two children, his grandchildren, and worked for him like a charwoman. * Another of his daughters was married to a petty official, and in one of the rooms of the inn, on the wall could be seen, among the family photographs, a miniature photograph of this official in uniform and official epaulettes. * The two younger daughters used to wear fashionable blue or green dresses, fitting tight at the back, and with trains a yard long, on Church holidays or when they went to pay visits. But next morning they would get up at dawn, as usual, sweep out the rooms with a birch-broom, empty the slops, and clean
In spite of the thousands of roubles he had saved, Trifon Borissovitch was very fond of emptying the pockets of a drunken guest, and remembering that not a month ago he had, in twenty-four hours, made two if not three hundred roubles out of Dmitri, when he had come on his escapade with Grushenka, he met him now with eager welcome, scenting his prey the moment Mitya drove up to the steps.
“Dmitri Fyodorovitch, dear sir, we see you once more!”
“Stay, Trifon Borissovitch,” began Mitya, “first and foremost, where is she?”
“Agrafena Alexandrovna?” The innkeeper understood at once, looking sharply into Mitya’s face. “She’s here, too …”
“With whom? With whom?”
“Some strangers. One is an official gentleman, a Pole, to judge from his speech. He sent the horses for her from here; and there’s