"You ought to let me off," said Misha. "I saved you from that bridegroom, so you ought to be grateful."
"Who saved whom? You heard how they were talking of giving you a birching. Now go into the corner."
"Well, I'd better kneel here," said Misha.
He lowered himself on to his knees at his sister's feet and laid his head in her lap. She caressed him and tickled him. Misha laughed, scrabbling with his knees on the floor. Suddenly his sister pushed him from her and sat down on the sofa. Misha remained alone. He stayed awhile on his knees, and looked questioningly at his sister. She seated herself more comfortably and picked up a book as if to read, but watched her brother over it.
"Well, I'm tired now," he said plaintively.
"I'm not keeping you there, you put yourself there," answered Nadezhda, smiling over her book.
"Well, I've been punished, let me go, please," entreated Misha.
"Did I put you on your knees?" said Nadezhda in a voice of assumed indifference. "Why do you bother me?"
"I'll not get up until you've forgiven me."
Nadezhda burst out laughing, put the book aside, and taking hold of Misha's shoulders, pulled him to her. He gave a squeal and threw himself into her arms exclaiming: