"Ardalyon Borisitch's got a dancing fit," said Prepolovenskaya with a smile.
"That's nothing new, he has his little whims," grumbled Varvara, looking admiringly at Peredonov nevertheless.
She sincerely thought that he was handsome and clever. His most stupid actions seemed to her perfectly fitting. To her he was neither ridiculous nor repulsive.
"Let's sing a funeral mass over the landlady," shouted Volodin. "Fetch a pillow here."
"What will they think of next?" said Varvara laughingly.
She threw out from the bedroom a pillow in a dirty calico slip. They put the pillow on the floor to represent the landlady and began to chant over it with wild discordant voices. Then they called in Natalya, and made her turn the ariston[1]; all four of them began to dance a quadrille with strange antics, kicking up their legs.
After the dance Peredonov felt generous. A dim, morose sort of animation lit up his plump face; he was inspired by a sudden, almost automatic decision, a consequence, perhaps, of his sudden muscular action. He pulled out his wallet, counted several notes, and with a proud self-laudatory expression, threw them towards Varvara.
"Here you are, Varvara!" he exclaimed. "Get yourself a wedding dress!"
The notes fluttered across the floor. Varvara eagerly picked them up; she was not in the least offended at the way the gift was made. Prepolovenskaya thought: "Well, we shall see who's going to have him." And she smiled maliciously. Volodin, of course, did not think of helping Varvara to pick up the money.
Soon Prepolovenskaya left. In the passage she met another visitor, Grushina.