‘I’ll teach you “Don’t want to.” A half-penny for candy, and out you go.’
She locks the door after them, sits on the lieutenant’s knee, and they begin to kiss.
‘You’re not cross, my treasure?’ the lieutenant whispers in her ear.
But there is a knock at the door. They have to open. The new chambermaid enters, a tall, gloomy woman with one eye, and says hoarsely, with a ferocious look:
‘No. 12 wants a samovar, some tea, and some sugar.’
Anna Friedrichovna impatiently gives out what is wanted. The lieutenant says languidly, stretched on the sofa:
‘I would like to rest a bit, Anna, dear. Isn’t there a room empty? People are always knocking about here.’
There is only one room empty, No. 5, and there they go. Their room is long, narrow, and dark, like a skittle-alley, with one window. A bed, a chest of drawers, a blistered brown washstand, and a commode are all its furniture. The landlady and the lieutenant once more begin to kiss; and they moan like doves on the roof in springtime.
‘Anna, darling, if you love me, send for a packet of ten “Cigarettes Plaisir,” six kopeks,’ says the lieutenant coaxingly, while he undresses.
‘Later——’