the air with loud yawns.

"Goodness knows what creatures women are!" he muttered. "Can't leave
one in peace even at night! To wake a man for such nonsense!"

"But, _Basile_, I swear I saw a man getting in at the window!"

"Well, what of it? Let him get in. . . . That's pretty sure to be
Pelagea's sweetheart, the fireman."

"What! what did you say?"

"I say it's Pelagea's fireman come to see her."

"Worse than ever!" shrieked Marya Mihalovna. "That's worse than a
burglar! I won't put up with cynicism in my house!"

"Hoity-toity! We are virtuous! . . . Won't put up with cynicism?
As though it were cynicism! What's the use of firing off those
foreign words? My dear girl, it's a thing that has happened ever
since the world began, sanctified by tradition. What's a fireman
for if not to make love to the cook?"

"No, _Basile!_ It seems you don't know me! I cannot face the idea
of such a . . . such a . . . in my house. You must go this minute
into the kitchen and tell him to go away! This very minute! And
to-morrow I'll tell Pelagea that she must not dare to demean herself
by such proceedings! When I am dead you may allow immorality in
your house, but you shan't do it now! . . . Please go!"