"What do you mean by 'how'?" And she laughed.
Anthony appeared in the door and asked angrily:
"What is this, Zoia?"
"Oh," she cried, "he is so funny—that one!" And she began to chatter and tell how "funny" I was.
But Anthony did not listen to her, and commanded me sternly:
"Go and unpack the trunks and the bags. Then take part of the provisions to the Abbot."
Even before dinner both of them had taken enough wine, and in the evening, after tea, the woman was entirely drunk, and Anthony, too, seemed more drunk than usual. They drove me from one corner to the other—to bring this, to carry that; to heat the wine, then to cool it.
I ran about like a waiter in a drinking place, and they became more and more free before me. The young lady was hot and took off some of her clothes, and the gentleman suddenly asked me:
"Matvei, isn't she pretty?"
"Pretty enough," I answered.