"

Kistunov shrugged his shoulders again and turned to a gentleman in
a military uniform, with a swollen face.

"Your Excellency," piped Madame Shtchukin in a pitiful voice, "I
have the doctor's certificate that my husband was ill! Here it is,
if you will kindly look at it."

"Very good, I believe you," Kistunov said irritably, "but I repeat
it has nothing to do with us. It's queer and positively absurd!
Surely your husband must know where you are to apply?"

"He knows nothing, your Excellency. He keeps on: 'It's not your
business! Get away!'--that's all I can get out of him. . . . Whose
business is it, then? It's I have to keep them all!"

Kistunov again turned to Madame Shtchukin and began explaining to
her the difference between the Army Medical Department and a private
bank. She listened attentively, nodded in token of assent, and said:

"Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . I understand, sir. In that case,
your Excellency, tell them to pay me fifteen roubles at least! I
agree to take part on account!

"Ough!" sighed Kistunov, letting his head drop back. "There's no
making you see reason. Do understand that to apply to us with such
a petition is as strange as to send in a petition concerning divorce,
for instance, to a chemist's or to the Assaying Board. You have not
been paid your due, but what have we to do with it?"

"Your Excellency, make me remember you in my prayers for the rest
of my days, have pity on a lone, lorn woman," wailed Madame Shtchukin;
"I am a weak, defenceless woman. . . . I am worried to death, I've
to settle with the lodgers and see to my husband's affairs and fly
round looking after the house, and I am going to church every day
this week, and my son-in-law is out of a job. . . . I might as well
not eat or drink. . . . I can scarcely keep on my feet. . . . I
haven't slept all night. . . ."

Kistunov was conscious of the palpitation of his heart. With a face
of anguish, pressing his hand on his heart, he began explaining to
Madame Shtchukin again, but his voice failed him.

"No, excuse me, I cannot talk to you," he said with a wave of his
hand. "My head's going round. You are hindering us and wasting your
time. Ough! Alexey Nikolaitch," he said, addressing one of his
clerks, "please will you explain to Madame Shtchukin?"

Kistunov, passing by all the petitioners, went to his private room
and signed about a dozen papers while Alexey Nikolaitch was still
engaged with Madame Shtchukin. As he