uthor spoke slowly.

"I see, you are a thorough corpse!" called out the devil to annoy him.

"Oh, I don't know?" said the author and jauntily shook his bones. "I
don't mind seeing her; besides, she will not see me, or if she will,
she cannot recognize me!"

"Of course!" the devil assured him.

"You know, I only said so because she did not like for me to go away
long from home," explained the author.

And suddenly the wall of a house disappeared or became as transparent
as glass. The author saw the inside of large apartments, and it was so
light and cosy in them.

"Elegant appointments!" he grated his bones approvingly: "Very fine
appointments! If I had lived in such rooms, I would be alive now."

"I like it, too," said the devil and smiled. "And it is not
expensive--it only costs some three thousands."

"Hem, that not expensive? I remember my largest work brought me 815
roubles, and I worked over it a whole year. But who lives here?"

"Your wife," said the devil.

"I declare! That is good ... for her."

"Yes, and here comes her husband."

"She is so pretty now, and how well she is dressed! Her husband, you
say? What a fine looking fellow! Rather a bourgeois phiz,--kind, but
somewhat stupid! He looks as if he might be cunning,--well, just the
face to please a woman."

"Do you want me to heave a sigh for you?" the devil proposed and
looked maliciously at the author. But he was taken up with the scene
before him.

"What happy, jolly faces both have! They are evidently satisfied with
life. Tell me, does she love him?"

"Oh, yes, very much!"

"And who is he?"

"A clerk in a millinery shop."

"A clerk in a millinery shop," the author repeated slowly and did not
utter a word for some time. The devil looked at him and smiled a merry
smile.

"Do you like that?" he asked.

The author spoke with an effort:

"I had some children.... I know they are alive.... I had some children
... a son and a daughter.... I used to think then that my son would
turn out in time a good man...."

"There are plenty of good men, but what the world needs is perfect
men," said the devil coolly and whistled a jolly march.

"I think the clerk is probably a poor pedagogue ... and my son...."

The author's empty skull shook sadly.

"Just look how he is embracing her! They are living an easy life!"
exclaimed the devil.

"Yes. Is that clerk a rich man?"

"No, he was poorer than I, but your wife is rich."

"My wife? Where