"I also had an interesting dream last night," announced Volodin. "But I don't know what it can mean. I was sitting, as it were, on a gold throne with a gold crown on, and there was grass in front of me and on the grass were little sheep, all little sheep, all little sheep, ba-a!—ba-a! And the little sheep walked about and moved their heads like this and kept on their ba-a! ba-a! ba-a!"
Volodin walked up and down the room, shaking his head, protruded his lips and bleated. The guests laughed. Volodin sat down on a chair with an expression of bliss on his face, looked at them with his bulging eyes and laughed with the same sheep-like bleating laughter.
"What happened then?" asked Grushina, winking at the others.
"Well, it was all little sheep and little sheep, and then I woke up," concluded Volodin.
"A sheep has sheepish dreams," growled Peredonov. "It isn't such great shakes being Tsar of the sheep."
"I also had a dream," said Varvara with an impudent smile, "only I can't tell it before men. I'll tell it to you alone."
"Ah, my dear Varvara Dmitrievna, it's strange I had one too," sniggered Grushina, winking at the others.
"Please tell us, we're modest men, like the ladies," said Routilov.
The other men also besought Varvara and Grushina to tell them their dreams. But the pair only exchanged glances, laughed meaningly and would not tell.
They sat down to play cards. Routilov assured everyone that Peredonov played cards well. Peredonov believed him. But that evening he lost as usual. Routilov was winning. This elated him and he talked more animatedly than usual.