The door opened into an immense greenhouse. Strange, muscular,
monstrously green plants grew here. The air was very humid, very
oppressive. The glass walls intersected by iron bars let through much
light. The light was painfully, pitilessly dazzling, so that
everything appeared in a whirl before their eyes.

Elena glanced at her dress. It struck her as being grey, worn out. But
the bright light diverted her glances elsewhere and made her forget
herself. The blue-green glass sky of the greenhouse flung down sparks
and heat. The cruel Dragon rejoiced at the earthly respirations
confined in this prison of glass. He furiously kissed his beloved
poisonous grasses.

"It is even more terrible here than in the passage," said Elisaveta.
"Let's leave this place quickly."

"No, it is pleasant here," said Elena with a happy smile. She was
enjoying the pink and purple flowers which bloomed in a round basin.

But Elisaveta walked rapidly towards the door leading to the garden.
Elena overtook her, and grumbled:

"Why are you running? Here is a bench; let's rest here."

Trirodov met them in the garden just outside the greenhouse. His
manner of addressing them was simple and direct.

"I believe," he began, "that you are interested in this house and its
owner. Well, if you like I'll show you a part of my kingdom."