best
gentlemen approve of it. Of the sweet, there are Cagore, church wine,
Teneriffe; while of the French there's Lafitte. You can get port wine
also. The girls just simply adore Lafitte with lemonade."

"And what are the prices?"

"No dearer than money. As is the rule in all good establishments--a
bottle of Lafitte five roubles, four bottles of lemonade at a half
each, that's two roubles, and only seven in all..."

"That'll do you, Zociya," Jennka stopped her indifferently, "it's a
shame to take advantage of boys. Even five is enough. You can see these
are decent people, and not just anybody..."

But Gladishev turned red, and with a negligent air threw a ten rouble
note on the table.

"Oh, what's the use of talking about it. All right, bring it."

"Whilst I'm at it, I'll take the money for the visit as well. What
about you, young people--are you on time or for the night? You know the
rates yourself: on time, at two roubles; for the night, at five."

"All right, all right. On time," interrupted Jennka, flaring up. "Trust
us in that, at least."

The wine was brought. Tamara through importunity got pastry, besides.
Jennka asked for permission to call in Little White Manka. Jennka
herself did not drink, did not get up from the bed, and all the time
muffled herself up in a gray shawl of Orenburg[24] manufacture,
although it was hot in the room. She looked fixedly, without tearing
her eyes away, at the handsome, sunburned face of Gladishev, which had
become so manly.

[24] Orenburg has as high a reputation for woolens as Sheffield has for
steel.--Trans.

"What's the matter with you, dearie?" asked Gladishev, sitting down on
her bed and stroking her hand.

"Nothing special... Head aches a little... I hit myself."

"Well, don't you pay any attention."

"Well, here I've seen you, and already I feel better. How is it you
haven't been here for so long?"

"I couldn't snatch away the time, nohow-camping. You know yourself...
We had to put away twenty-five versts a day. The whole day drilling and
drilling: field, formation, garrison. With a full pack. Used to get so
fagged out from morning to night that towards evening you couldn't feel
your legs under you... We were at the manoeuvres also... It isn't
sweet..."

"Oh, you poor little things!" Little White Manka suddenly clasped her
hands. "And what do they torture you for, angels that you are? If I was
to have a brother like you, or a son--my heart would just