se, day after day, for exactly four months."

"No? Seriously?" Yarchenko wondered and laughed.

"In all seriousness. The table here isn't at all bad, by the way. The
food is filling and savory, although exceedingly greasy."

"But how did you ever..."

"Why, just because I was tutoring for high school a daughter of Anna
Markovna, the lady of this hospitable house. Well, I stipulated that
part of my monthly pay should be deducted for my dinners."

"What a strange fancy!" said Yarchenko. "And did you do this of your
own will? Or ... Pardon me, I am afraid of seeming indiscreet to you
... Perhaps at that time ... extreme necessity? ..."

"Not at all. Anna Markovna soaked me three times as much as it would
have cost in a student's dining room. I simply wanted to live here a
while on a somewhat nearer, closer footing, to enter intimately into
this little world, so to speak."

"A-ah! It seems I am beginning to understand!" beamed Yarchenko. "Our
new friend--pardon me for the little familiarity--is, apparently,
gathering material from life? And, perhaps, in a few years we will have
the pleasure of reading ..."

"A t-r-ragedy out of a brothel!" Boris Sobashnikov put in loudly, like
an actor.

While the reporter had been answering Yarchenko, Tamara quietly got up
from her place, walked around the table, and, bending down over
Sobashnikov, spoke in a whisper in his ear:

"Dearie, sweetie, you'd better not touch this gentleman. Honest to God,
it will be better for you, even."

"Wass that?" the student looked at her superciliously, fixing his
PINCE-NEZ with two spread fingers. "Is he your lover? Your pimp?"

"I swear by anything you want that not once in his life has he stayed
with any one of us. But, I repeat, don't pick on him."

"Why, yes! Why, of course!" retorted Sobashnikov, grimacing scornfully.
"He has such a splendid defense as the entire brothel. And it's a sure
thing that all the bouncers on Yamskaya are his near friends and
cronies."

"No, not that," retorted Tamara in a kind whisper. "Only he'll take you
by the collar and throw you out of the window, like a puppy. I've
already seen such an aerial flight. God forbid its happening to anyone.
It's disgraceful, and bad for the health."

"Get out of here, you filth!" yelled Sobashnikov, swinging his elbow at
her.

"I'm going, dearie," meekly answered Tamara, and walked away from him
with her light step.

Everybody for an instant turned toward the studen