hunger, and she, too, sobbed.

"What can I do, madam?" she said. "You say that I am a low woman
and that I have ruined Nikolay Petrovitch, and I assure you . . .
before God Almighty, I have had nothing from him whatever. . . .
There is only one girl in our chorus who has a rich admirer; all
the rest of us live from hand to mouth on bread and kvass. Nikolay
Petrovitch is a highly educated, refined gentleman, so I've made
him welcome. We are bound to make gentlemen welcome."

"I ask you for the things! Give me the things! I am crying. . . .
I am humiliating myself. . . . If you like I will go down on my
knees! If you wish it!"

Pasha shrieked with horror and waved her hands. She felt that this
pale, beautiful lady who expressed herself so grandly, as though
she were on the stage, really might go down on her knees to her,
simply from pride, from grandeur, to exalt herself and humiliate
the chorus girl.

"Very well, I will give you things!" said Pasha, wiping her eyes
and bustling about. "By all means. Only they are not from Nikolay
Petrovitch. . . . I got these from other gentlemen. As you
please. . . ."

Pasha pulled out the upper drawer of the chest, took out a diamond
brooch, a coral necklace, some rings and bracelets, and gave them
all to the lady.

"Take them if you like, only I've never had anything from your