‘What a notion!’ responded the holy man. ‘To indulge the sinful body.... O-ho-ho! Break all the bones in it ... but she talks of tea! Oh, oh, worthy old woman, Satan is strong within us.... Fight him with hunger, fight him with cold, with the sluice-gates of heaven, the pouring, penetrating rain, and he takes no harm—he is alive still! Remember the day of the Intercession of the Mother of God! You will receive, you will receive in abundance!’
The landlady could not resist uttering a faint groan of admiration.
‘Only listen to me! Give all thou hast, give thy head, give thy shirt! If they ask not of thee, yet give! For God is all-seeing! Is it hard for Him to destroy your roof? He has given thee bread in His mercy, and do thou bake it in the oven! He seeth all! Se ... e ... eth! Whose eye is in the triangle? Say, whose?’
The landlady stealthily crossed herself under her neckerchief.
‘The old enemy is adamant! A ... da ... mant! A ... da ... mant!’ the religious maniac repeated several times, gnashing his teeth. ‘The old serpent! But God will arise! Yes, God will arise and scatter His enemies! I will call up all the dead! I will go against His enemy.... Ha-ha-ha! Tfoo!’
‘Have you any oil?’ said another voice, hardly audible; ‘let me put some on the wound.... I have got a clean rag.’
I peeped through the chink again; the woman in the jacket was still busied with the vagrant’s sore foot.... ‘A Magdalen!’ I thought.
‘I’ll get it directly, my dear,’ said the woman, and, coming into my room, she took a spoonful of oil from the lamp burning before the holy picture.
‘Who’s that waiting on him?’ I asked.
‘We don’t know, sir, who it is; she too, I suppose, is seeking salvation, atoning for her sins. But what a saintly man he is!’