"That's so, of course," almost groaned Mishka.
"I will read some more to you. Would you like it?"
"Just as you please, ma'am." Mishka was weary to death.
The old lady got her Bible from somewhere behind her, found a place, and the yard was filled with her quavering voice:
"'Judge not, that ye be not judged, for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be meted unto you.'"
Mishka gave his head a shake, and scratched his left shoulder.
"'Dost thou think to escape the judgment of God?'"
"Barynia!" began Mishka in a plaintive tone, "let me go, for God's sake. I had better come some other time to listen. But now I'm real hungry, barynia. My stomach aches, even. We've had nothing to eat since last night."
The barynia shut the door with a bang.
"Go along! Go!" sounded sharply and shortly through the yard.