“Vassily Fedotitch!” A voice called out suddenly from the other side of the door. “Can you come out?”
“Who is it? What do you want?”
“Do come, please,” the voice repeated insistently. “Some new workmen have come. They’re trying to explain something, and Pavel Egoritch is not there.”
Solomin excused himself and went out. Mashurina fixed her gaze on Mariana and stared at her for so long that the latter began to feel uncomfortable.
“Excuse me,” Mashurina exclaimed suddenly in her hard abrupt voice, “I am a plain woman and don’t know how to put these things. Don’t be angry with me. You need not tell me if you don’t wish to. Are you the girl who ran away from the Sipiagins?”
“Yes,” Mariana replied, a little surprised.
“With Nejdanov?”
“Yes.”
“Please give me your hand ... and forgive me. You must be good since he loves you.”
Mariana pressed Mashurina’s hand.