s a real actor,
explained the parts with aplomb and heat. . . .

Then followed the duet, and after the duet there was the clatter
of crockery. . . . Through his drowsiness Zaikin heard them persuading
Smerkalov to read "The Woman who was a Sinner," and heard him, after
affecting to refuse, begin to recite. He hissed, beat himself on
the breast, wept, laughed in a husky bass. . . . Zaikin scowled and
hid his head under the quilt.

"It's a long way for you to go, and it's dark," he heard Nadyezhda
Stepanovna's voice an hour later. "Why shouldn't you stay the night
here? Koromyslov can sleep here in the drawing-room on the sofa,
and you, Smerkalov, in Petya's bed. . . . I can put Petya in my
husband's study. . . . Do stay, really!"

At last when the clock was striking two, all was hushed, the bedroom
door opened, and Nadyezhda Stepanovna appeared.

"Pavel, are you asleep?" she whispered.

"No; why?"

"Go into your study, darling, and lie on the sofa. I am going to
put Olga Kirillovna here, in your bed. Do go, dear! I would put her
to sleep in the study, but she is afraid to sleep alone. . . . Do
get up!"

Zaikin got up, threw on his dressing-gown, and taking his pillow,
crept wearily to the study. . . . Feeling his way to his sofa, he
lighted a match, and saw Petya lying on the sofa. The boy was not
asleep, and, looking at the match with wide-open eyes:

"Father, why is it gnats don't go to sleep at night?" he asked.

"Because . . . because . . . you and I are not wanted. . . . We
have nowhere to sleep even."

"Father, and why is it Olga Kirillovna has freckles on her face?"

"Oh, shut up! I am tired of you."

After a moment's thought, Zaikin dressed and went out into the
street for a breath of air. . . . He looked at the grey morning
sky, at the motionless clouds, heard the lazy call of the drowsy
corncrake, and began dreaming of the next day, when he would go to
town, and coming back from the court would tumble into bed. . . .
Suddenly the figure of a man appeared round the corner.

"A watchman, no doubt," thought Zaikin. But going nearer and looking
more closely he recognized in the figure the summer visitor in the
ginger trousers.

"You're not asleep?" he asked.

"No, I can't sleep," sighed Ginger Trousers. "I am enjoying Nature
. . . . A welcome visitor, my wife's mother, arrived by the night
train, you know. She brought with her our nieces . . . splendid
girls! I was delighted to see them, althou