Where there is God's blessing you can
live in peace without the priest's aid. We have some living like that at
the factory. Not the worst of folk either."

"What nice words you use, Tatiana! 'Living together freely'... I like
that. I'll tell you what I want to ask of you, Tatiana. I want to make
or buy a dress, something like yours, only a little plainer. Then I want
shoes and stockings and a kerchief--everything like you have. I've got
some money."

"That's quite easy, miss... There, there, don't be cross. I won't call
you miss if you don't like it. But what am I to call you?"

"Call me Mariana."

"And what is your father's Christian name?"

"Why do you want my father's name? Call me simply Mariana, as I call you
Tatiana."

"I don't like to somehow. You had better tell me."

"As you like. My father's name was Vikent. And what was your father's?

"He was called Osip."

"Then I shall call you Tatiana Osipovna."

"And I'll call you Mariana Vikentievna. That will be splendid."

"Won't you take a cup of tea with us, Tatiana Osipovna?"

"For once I will, Mariana Vikentievna, although Egoritch will scold me
afterwards."

"Who is Egoritch?"

"Pavel, my husband."

"Sit down, Tatiana Osipovna."

"Thank you, Mariana Vikentievna."

Tatiana sat down and began sipping her tea and nibbling pieces of sugar.
She kept turning the lump of sugar round in her fingers, screwing up her
eye on the side on which she bit it. Mariana entered into conversation
with her and she replied quite at her ease, asked questions in her turn,
and volunteered various pieces of information. She simply worshipped
Solomin and put her husband only second to him. She did not, however,
care for the factory life.

"It's neither town nor country here. I wouldn't stop an hour if it were
not for Vassily Fedotitch!"

Mariana listened to her attentively, while Nejdanov, sitting a little to
one side, watched her and wondered at her interest. For Mariana it was
all so new, but it seemed to him that he had seen crowds of women like
Tatiana and spoken to them hundreds of times.

"Do you know, Tatiana Osipovna?" Mariana began at last; "you think that
we want to teach the people, but we want to serve them."

"Serve them? Teach them; that's the best thing you can do for them. Look
at me, for instance. When I married Egoritch I didn't so much as know
how to read and write. Now I've learned, thanks to Vassily Fedotitch.
He didn't teach me himself, he