"There now!"
"What's the matter?" asked Yevsey hastily.
"She cut her throat."
Yevsey rose to his feet, stung in the back by a sharp blow of terror.
"She was just found in a store-room. Let's go and look."
Zarubin ran off, announcing to the clerks on his way:
"I told you she was Dorimedont Lukin's mistress."
He shouted the word "mistress" with particular emphasis and zest.
Yevsey looked after him with wide-open eyes. Before him in the air hung Rayisa's head, her heavy luxuriant hair flowed from it in streams, her face was pale green, her lips were tightly compressed, and instead of eyes there were deep dark stains. Everything round about him was hidden behind the dead face, which Yevsey, numb with terror and pity, was unable to remove from his vision.
"Why don't you go to lunch?" asked the Smokestack.