and not the _mari
d'elle_, he had been quite endurable: he used to go to his work and
take his salary, and all his whims and projects went no further
than a new guitar, fashionable trousers, and an amber cigarette-holder.
Since he had become "the husband of a celebrity" he was completely
transformed. The singer remembered that when first she told him she
was going on the stage he had made a fuss, been indignant, complained
to her parents, turned her out of the house. She had been obliged
to go on the stage without his permission. Afterwards, when he
learned from the papers and from various people that she was earning
big sums, he had 'forgiven her,' abandoned book-keeping, and become
her hanger-on. The singer was overcome with amazement when she
looked at her hanger-on: when and where had he managed to pick up
new tastes, polish, and airs and graces? Where had he learned the
taste of oysters and of different Burgundies? Who had taught him
to dress and do his hair in the fashion and call her 'Nathalie'
instead of Natasha?"

"It's strange," thinks the singer. "In old days he used to get his
salary and put it away, but now a hundred roubles a day is not
enough for him. In old days he was afraid to talk before schoolboys
for fear of saying something silly, and now he is overfamiliar even
with princes . . . wretched, contemptible little creature!"

But then the singer starts again; again there is the clang of the
bell in the entry. The housemaid, scolding and angrily flopping
with her slippers, goes to open the door. Again some one comes in
and stamps like a horse.

"He has come back!" thinks the singer. "When shall I be left in
peace? It's revolting!" She is overcome by fury.

"Wait a bit. . . . I'll teach you to get up these farces! You shall
go away. I'll make you go away!"

The singer leaps up and runs barefoot into the little drawing-room
where her _mari_ usually sleeps. She comes at the moment when he
is undressing, and carefully folding his clothes on a chair.

"You went away!" she says, looking at him with bright eyes full of
hatred. "What did you come back for?"

Nikitin remains silent, and merely sniffs.

"You went away! Kindly take yourself off this very minute! This
very minute! Do you hear?"

_Mari d'elle_ coughs and, without looking at his wife, takes off
his braces.

"If you don't go away, you insolent creature, I shall go," the
singer goes on, stamping her bare foot, and looking at him with
fla