“What?” she demanded anxiously.
“You know well—the flooring.”
“Sh-h-h.”
She glanced at the door, watching the policeman statuesque before the setting sun.
“No one knows that—not even my husband.”
“So M. Koupriane told me. Then it is you who have arranged for these ten police-agents?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, we will commence now by sending all these police away.”
Matrena Petrovna grasped his hand, astounded.
“Surely you don’t think of doing such a thing as that!”