wish for freedom. He used to lie curled up in his kennel, and only
rarely uttered a sleepy, almost noiseless bark, which broke off at once,
as though he were himself aware of its uselessness. Mumu never went into
the mistress's house; and when Gerasim carried wood into the rooms, she
always stayed behind, impatiently waiting for him at the steps, pricking
up her ears and turning her head to right and to left at the slightest
creak of the door . . .

So passed another year. Gerasim went on performing his duties as house-
porter, and was very well content with his lot, when suddenly an
unexpected incident occurred. . . . One fine summer day the old lady was
walking up and down the drawing-room with her dependants. She was in
high spirits; she laughed and made jokes. Her servile companions laughed
and joked too, but they did not feel particularly mirthful; the
household did not much like it, when their mistress was in a lively
mood, for, to begin with, she expected from every one prompt and
complete participation in her merriment, and was furious if any one
showed a face that did not beam with delight; and secondly, these
outbursts never lasted long with her, and were usually followed by a
sour and gloomy mood. That day she had got up in a lucky hour; at cards
she took the four knaves, which means the fulfilment of one's wishes
(she used to try her fortune on the cards every morning), and her tea
struck her as particularly delicious, for which her maid was rewarded by
words of praise, and by twopence in money. With a sweet smile on her
wrinkled lips, the lady walked about the drawing-room and went up to the
window. A flower-garden had been laid out before the window, and in the
very middle bed, under a rosebush, lay Mumu busily gnawing a bone. The
lady caught sight of her.

"Mercy on us!" she cried suddenly; "what dog is that?"