eous
grimaces, while the nurse first quietened her, then egged her on.

Solomin's habitual smile became even broader, while Markelov, who had
been for some time showing signs of impatience, suddenly turned to
Fomishka:

"I did not expect that you," he began in his severe manner, "with your
enlightened mind--I've heard that you are a follower of Voltaire--could
be amused with what ought to be an object for compassion--with
deformity!" Here he remembered Paklin's sister and could have bitten his
tongue off.

Fomishka went red in the face and muttered: "You see it is not my
fault... she herself--"

Pufka simply flew at Markelov.

"How dare you insult our masters?" she screamed out in her lisping
voice. "What is it to you that they took me in, brought me up, and gave
me meat and drink? Can't you bear to see another's good fortune, eh?
Who asked you to come here? You fusty, musty, black-faced villain with
a moustache like a beetle's!" Here Pufka indicated with her thick short
fingers what his moustache was like; while Nurse Vassilievna's toothless
mouth was convulsed with laughter, re-echoed in the adjoining room.

"I am not in a position to judge you," Markelov went on. "To protect the
homeless and deformed is a very praiseworthy work, but I must say that
to live in ease and luxury, even though without injury to others, not
lifting a finger to help a fellow-creature, does not require a great
deal of goodness. I, for one, do not attach much importance to that sort
of virtue!"

Here Pufka gave forth a deafening howl. She did not understand a word of
what Markelov had said, but she felt that the "black one" was scolding,
and how dared he! Vassilievna also muttered something, while Fomishka
folded his hands across his breast and turned to his wife. "Fimishka, my
darling," he began, almost in tears; "do you hear what the gentleman is
saying? We are both wicked sinners, Pharisees.... We are living on
the fat of the land, oh! oh! oh! We ought to be turned out into the
street... with a broom in our hands to work for our living! Oh! oh!"

At these mournful words Pufka howled louder than ever, while Fimishka
screwed up her eyes, opened her lips, drew in a deep breath, ready to
retaliate, to speak.

God knows how it would have ended had not Paklin intervened.

"What is the matter?" he began, gesticulating with his hands and
laughing loudly. "I wonder you are not ashamed of yourselves! Mr.
Markelov only meant it as a joke.