“You are a dog yourself!” she exclaimed.
Tanechka sat there sewing. She paused now and then from her work and said in a calm, deliberate manner:
“You always whine.... Certainly, you are a dog.... You have a dog’s snout.... And a dog’s ears.... And a wagging tail.... The mistress will soon drive you out of doors, because you are the most detestable of dogs, a poodle.”
Tanechka was a young, plump, rosy-cheeked girl with an innocent, good-natured face, which revealed, however, a trace of cunning. She sat there so demure, barefooted, still dressed in her apprentice clothes; her eyes were clear, and her brows were highly arched on her fine curved white forehead, framed by straight, dark chestnut hair, which in the distance looked black. Tanechka’s voice was clear, even, sweet, insinuating, and if one could have heard its sound only, and not given heed to the words, it would have given the impression that she was paying Alexandra Ivanovna compliments.
The other seamstresses laughed, the apprentices chuckled, they covered their faces with their black aprons and cast side glances at Alexandra Ivanovna. As for Alexandra Ivanovna, she was livid with rage.
“Wretch!” she exclaimed. “I will pull your ears for you! I won’t leave a hair on your head.”
Tanechka replied in a gentle voice:
“The paws are a trifle short.... The poodle bites as well as barks.... It may be necessary to buy a muzzle.”
Alexandra Ivanovna made a movement toward Tanechka. But before Tanechka had time to lay aside her work and get up, the mistress of the establishment, a large, serious-looking woman, entered, rustling her dress.
She said sternly: “Alexandra Ivanovna, what do you mean by making such a fuss?”