ut of the house; for I
loved her! For I am her mother, all the same! She did not have to live
with strangers,--and beg alms!..." Here the widow melted into
tears.--"But if you, sir," she began afresh, wiping her eyes with the
ends of her kerchief, "really have that intention, and if you will not
concoct anything dishonourable about us,--but if, on the contrary, you
wish to show us a favour,--then you had better talk with my other
daughter. She will tell you everything better than I can...."
"Annotchka!" called Madame Milovidoff:--"Annotchka, come hither! There's
some gentleman or other from Moscow who wants to talk about Katya!"

There was a crash in the adjoining room, but no one
appeared.--"Annotchka!" cried the widow again--"Anna Semyonovna! come
hither, I tell thee!"

The door opened softly and on the threshold appeared a girl no longer
young, of sickly aspect, and homely, but with very gentle and sorrowful
eyes. Aratoff rose from his seat to greet her, and introduced himself,
at the same time mentioning his friend Kupfer.--"Ah! Feodor
Feodoritch!" ejaculated the girl softly, as she softly sank down on a
chair.

"Come, now, talk with the gentleman," said Madame Milovidoff, rising
ponderously from her seat: "He has taken the trouble to come expressly
from Moscow,--he wishes to collect information about Katya. But you must
excuse me, sir," she added, turning to Aratoff.... "I shall go away, to
attend to domestic affairs. You can have a good explanation with
Annotchka--she will tell you about the theatre ... and all that sort of
thing. She's my clever, well-educated girl: she speaks French and reads
books quite equal to her dead sister. And she educated her sister, I may
say.... She was the elder--well, and so she taught her."

Madame Milovidoff withdrew. When Aratoff was left alone with Anna
Semyonovna he repeated his speech; but from the first glance he
understood that he had to deal with a girl who really was cultured, not
with a merchant's daughter,--and so he enlarged somewhat, and employed
different expressions;--and toward the end he became agitated, flushed,
and felt conscious that his heart was beating hard. Anna Semyonovna
listened to him in silence, with her hands folded; the sad smile did not
leave her face ... bitter woe which had not ceased to cause pain, was
expressed in that smile.

"Did you know my sister?" she asked Aratoff.

"No; properly speaking, I did not know her," he replied. "I saw and