"What's the matter?" asked Anania, roughly.
"The matter with me? nothing," she answered, surprised; then resumed her usual pleasant smile. "Why are you sitting in the dark? Well, what have you to say to me?"
"I'll wait till you've taken off your hat."
She seemed struck by his voice and his frown, the more so that in the morning he had complained of not feeling well.
"How hot it is! Suffocating!" she said, "are you perhaps feeling it? Tell me what you want."
"First take off your hat," repeated Anania.
"Why?"
Anania was striking a match against the wall. He was thinking. "Better catch her suddenly before she speaks to that old monkey Aunt Varvara."
"What's become of the candle? Well, look here, a friend of mine came here—ah su diaulu t'a fattu, the devil made you, candle, that you won't light! What a beast of a candle!"
He raised his head and looked sharply at the woman who was quietly watching his efforts with the candle. "Battista Daga, another student, has been here. He wants a room. Can you give him one?"