"It's all very well for you who've got all you wanted, but I might be jailed on your account! No, I must have that letter, whatever you do. Because they can unmarry you as well, you know."
"That's all nonsense," replied Varvara with her arms insolently akimbo. "You might announce it in the market-place, but you couldn't undo the marriage."
"Not nonsense at all," shouted Grushina. "There is no law that permits you to marry through deception. If Ardalyon Borisitch should let the authorities know about this affair and the affair went up to the Higher Court they'd settle your hash for you."
Varvara got frightened and said:
"Now don't be angry—I'll get you the letter. There's nothing to be afraid of—I'll not give you away. I'm not such a beast as all that. I've got a soul too."
"What's a soul got to do with it?" said Grushina harshly. "A dog and a man have the same breath, but there is no soul. You live while you live."
Varvara decided to steal the letter, though this was difficult. Grushina urged her to hurry. There was one hope—to take the letter from Peredonov when he was drunk. And he drank a great deal now. He had even not infrequently appeared at the gymnasia in a rather tipsy state and had made unpleasant remarks which had aroused repugnance in even the worst of the boys.
Once Peredonov returned from the billiard saloon more drunk than usual: they had baptised the new billiard balls. But he never let go of his wallet. As he managed to undress somehow, he stuck it under his pillow. He slept restlessly but profoundly, and during his sleep his mind wandered and he babbled about something terrible and monstrous. And these words inspired Varvara with a painful apprehension.
"Well, it's nothing," she encouraged herself. "So long as he doesn't wake up."