"Here are some tarts," said Varvara.
"I don't want tarts!" shouted Ershova. "I want some zhamochki." And she waved her hands. "The masters have them, and I want some too."
"I haven't any zhamochki for you," answered Varvara, growing bolder as the landlady became more good-tempered. "Now here's some tarts. Gorge yourself!"
Ershova suddenly perceived the door into the dining-room, and cried out furiously:
"Out of my way, viper!"
She pushed Varvara aside and threw herself towards the door. There was no time to restrain her. Lowering her head and clenching her fists, she broke into the dining-room, throwing back the door with a crash. There she paused just inside the door and saw the soiled wall-paper. She uttered a long "whew" of astonishment. She stood with her hands on her hips and her legs crossed, shouting with rage:
"Then it's true that you're leaving!"
"Who put that into your head, Irinya Stepanovna?" said Varvara, trembling. "We've no such idea. Someone's been fooling you."
"We're not going anywhere," declared Peredonov. "We're quite contented here."
The landlady did not listen to them, she walked up to the panic-stricken Varvara, and shook her fist in her face. Peredonov got behind Varvara. He would have run away, but he wanted to see if Varvara and the landlady would come to blows.