oom they saw that everything was really ready.
Ustenka was rearranging the cushions along the wall. On the table,
which was covered by a disproportionately small cloth, was a decanter
of chikhir and some dried fish. The room smelt of dough and grapes.
Some half dozen girls in smart tunics, with their heads not covered as
usual with kerchiefs, were huddled together in a corner behind the
oven, whispering, giggling, and spluttering with laughter.

'I humbly beg you to do honour to my patron saint,' said Ustenka,
inviting her guests to the table.

Olenin noticed Maryanka among the group of girls, who without exception
were all handsome, and he felt vexed and hurt that he met her in such
vulgar and awkward circumstances. He felt stupid and awkward, and made
up his mind to do what Beletski did. Beletski stepped to the table
somewhat solemnly yet with confidence and ease, drank a glass of wine
to Ustenka's health, and invited the others to do the same. Ustenka
announced that girls don't drink. 'We might with a little honey,'
exclaimed a voice from among the group of girls. The orderly, who had
just returned with the honey and spice-cakes, was called in. He looked
askance (whether with envy or with contempt) at the gentlemen, who in
his opinion were on the spree; and carefully and conscientiously handed
over to them a piece of honeycomb and the cakes wrapped up in a piece
of greyish paper, and began explaining circumstantially all about the
price and the change, but Beletski sent him away. Having mixed honey
with wine in the glasses, and having lavishly scattered the three
pounds of spice-cakes on the table, Beletski dragged the girls from
their corners by force, made them sit down at the table, and began
distributing the cakes among them. Olenin involuntarily noticed how
Maryanka's sunburnt but small hand closed on two round peppermint nuts
and one brown one, and that she did not know what to do with them. The
conversation was halting and constrained, in spite of Ustenka's and
Beletski's free and easy manner and their wish to enliven the company.
Olenin faltered, and tried to think of something to say, feeling that
he was exciting curiosity and perhaps provoking ridicule and infecting
the others with his shyness. He blushed, and it seemed to him that
Maryanka in particular was feeling uncomfortable. 'Most likely they are
expecting us to give them some money,' thought he. 'How are we to do
it? And how can we manage quickest t