‘How’s that?’
‘I’ll tell you. You’ve heard, I daresay, of the Flagellant dissenters—that do without priests, you know?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, it’s there that their chief mother lives.’
‘A woman?’
‘Yes—the mother; a mother of God, they say.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘I tell you, it is so. She is a strict one, they say.… A regular commander-in-chief! She rules over thousands! I’d take her, and all these mothers of God.… But what’s the use of talking?’
He called his Pegashka, a marvellous dog, with an excellent scent, but with no notion of setting. Vikulov was obliged to tie her hind paws to keep her from running so furiously.