The stranger was pale and breathing heavily, as if she had just climbed a long fight of stairs.
'What can I do for you?' asked Pasha.
The lady did not reply at once. She took a step forward, slowly looked round the room and sat down, as if too tired or unwell to remain standing; then her pale lips quivered for a long time, as she tried to form her words.
'Is my husband with you.?' she finally asked, raising her large eyes, their lids red from crying, and looking at Pasha.
'Husband?' Pasha managed to whisper and suddenly felt so scared that her arms and legs turned cold. 'Husband?' she repeated, begin- ning to tremble.
'My husband . . . Nikolay Petrcvich Kolpakov.'
'N-no, madam ... I . . . I don't know any husband.'
A minute wem by in silence. Several times the stranger passed a handkerchief across her pale lips, and to stop herself trembling inside she kept holding her breath, while Pasha swod rooted to the spot in front of her, gazing at her in fear and bewilderment.
'So you say he's not here?' the lady asked in a voice now firm, and smiled oddly.
'1 — I don't know who you're talking about.'
'You loathsome, foul creature . . .' muttered the stranger, looking Pasha up and down with hatred and revulsion. 'Yes, foul - that's what you are. At last I can have the pleasure of telling you so!'
Pasha had the feeling that to this lady in black, with the angry eyes and slender white fingers, she really did look foul and disfigured, and shebegan to feel ashamed ofher plump red cheeks, her pock-marked nose and the quiff of hair that refused to be combed back. And it seemed to her that ifshe were thin and not made up and did not have the quiff, she might have concealed the fact that she was not respect- able, and would not have felt so terrified and ashamed standing in front of this mysterious, unknown lady.
'Where is my husband?' continued the lady. 'Not that it matters to me whether he's here or not - but I should tell you they've found out the money's missingand they're looking forNikolay Petrovich. They mean to arrest him. That's what you've succeeded in doing!'
The lady stood up and began walking about the room in great agitation. Pasha gazed at her and was too scared to understand anything.
'They'll find him today and arrest him,' said the lady, giving a sob of wounded pride and vexation. 'I know who's got him into this awful mess! You foul, base woman! Disgusting, mercenary crea- ture!' (The lady's lips twisted and her nose wrinkled up with revul- sion.) 'I am weak - listen to me, you base woman! - I am weak . . . you are stronger than I am ... but there is One who will stand up for me and my children! God sees everything! He is just! He will make you pay for every tear of mine, for all my sleepless nights! The time will come whl'"n you will remember me!'
Another silence fol!owed. Thelady walked up and down the room wringing her hands, while Pasha continued to stare blankly at her in bewilderment, unable to follow the lady's words but anticipating something dreadful.
'I don't know what you're talking about, madam,' she said and suddenly burst into tears.
'You liar!' shouted the lady and her eyes flashed at her angrily. 'I know everything! I've known about you for a long time! I know he's been coming here every day for the past month!'
'So what? What if he has? I have many visitors but I don't force
anyone. It's a free world.'
'But don't you sce, they've found out the money's missmg! He's been embezzling other people's money from the office! For the sakc of a . . . a woman like you, hc was even prcpared to break the law. Listen,' said the lady in a decisive tone, stopping in front of Pasha. 'You cannot have any principles, you exist solely in order to promote evil, that's your aim in life, but I cannot bclieve you have fallen so low as to lose all trace of human feeling! He has a wife and children . . . If he is convicted and sent to Siberia, the children and I will starve to death - do you realise that? But there is still a way open to save him and us from penury and humiliation. If I pay in nine hundred roubles today, they'll leave him alone. Only nine hundred roubles!'
'Ninehundred roubles?' Pasha asked quietly. '1-1don't know what you mcan ... I didn't take them.'
'I'm not asking you for nine hundred roubles. You don't have any money and I wouldn't touch it if you had. I'm asking you for something else . . . Usually, men give women like you expensive presents. Simply give me back the presents you've had from my husband!'
'But, madam, the gentleman never gave me any presents!' squealed Pasha, beginning to follow.
'So where is the money? He's got through his own money, my money and other people's . . . Where's it all gone? Listen to me, I beg you! I was worked up just now and said a lot of unpleasant things to you, but I apologise. I know you must hate me, but ifyou are capable of sympathy, put yourself in my position ! Give me back the presents, I implore you!'
'Mm . . .' said Pasha, shrugging her shoulders. 'I'd be glad to, but as God's my judge, the gentleman never gave me anything. That's the truth. Ah no, you're right,' the singer added, flustered. 'He did once bring me two little things. You can have them if you like . . .'
Pasha opened one of the small drawers in her dressing-table and took out a hollow gilt bracelet and a thin little ring with a ruby.
'Here you are,' she said, handing the objects to the visitor.
The lady flushed and her face trembled. She was insulted.
'These are no good,' she said. 'I'm not asking you for charity, I'm askingyou for what doesn't belong to you . . . for what you squeezed out of my husband by exploiting your position -that weak, unfortu- nate man . . . When I saw you with him on Thursday at the landing- stage, you were wearing expensive brooches and bracelets. So don't try playing the innocent with me! I'm asking you for the last time: will you give me back the presents or not?'
'You're a funny one, you really are,' said Pasha, beginning to take offence herself. 'I swear to you, I never had anything from your Nikolay Petrovich other than the ring and the bracelet. All he ever brought me was fancy pastries.'
'Fancy pastries,' said the stranger with a bitter smile. 'At home the children are starving, and here you're eating fancy pastries. So you absolutely refuse to give me back the .presents?'
Receiving no reply, the lady sat down and began staring straight ahead, thinking.
'What am I to do now?' she said. 'If I can't get the nine hundred roubles, he's finished, and the children and me with him. Which am I to do: kill this vile creature or go down on my knees to her?'
The lady pressed her handkerchief to her face and burst into tears.
'I implore you!' she said through her sobs. 'You're the one who's ruined and destroyed my husband, you must save him . . . You may have no sympathy for him, but the children . . . what of them? What have they done to deserve this?'
Pasha had a picture of small children standingon the street crying with hunger, and she too burst into tears.
'But what can I do, madam?' she said. 'You say I'm a vile creature and I've ruined Nikolay Petrovich, but I'm telling you the gospel truth ... I swear I haven't had anything out of him. Motya's the only one in our chorus with a rich man to keep her, the rest of us just live from hand to mouth. Nikolay Petrovich is an educated, refined gentleman, so, I made him welcome. We're not allowed to say no.'
'It's the presents I'm asking for! Give me thc presents! I'm crying, I'm humiliating myself . . . Do you want me to go down on my knees to you? Do you?'
Pashagave a frightened shriek and threw up her arms. She fdt that this pale, beautiful lady, who was expressingherselfso nobly that she might have been on stage, really was capable of going down on her knees to her, precisely because she was so proud and noble and wanted to exalt herself and humiliate the chorus-girl.