The lady looked through her tears at the jewellery that Pasha had handed her and said:
“This isn’t all. There is scarcely five hundred roubles’ worth here.”
Pasha violently snatched a gold watch, a cigarette-case, and a set of studs out of the drawer and flung up her arms, exclaiming:
“Now I am cleaned out! Look for yourself!”
Her visitor sighed. With trembling hands she wrapped the trinkets in her handkerchief, and went out without a word, without even a nod.
The door of the adjoining room opened and Kolpakoff came out. His face was pale and his head was shaking nervously, as if he had just swallowed a very bitter draught. His eyes were full of tears.
“I’d like to know what you ever gave me!” Pasha attacked him vehemently. “When did you ever give me the smallest present?”
“Presents—they are a detail, presents!” Kolpakoff cried, his head still shaking. “Oh, my God, she wept before you, she abased herself!”
“I ask you again: what have you ever given me?” screamed Pasha.
“My God, she—a respectable, a proud woman, was actually ready to fall on her knees before—before this—wench! And I have brought her to this! I allowed it!”