"No, father, one's own bread tastes better. It's easier to live when you know you are under no obligations to anyone."
The priest looked at her with his extinguished eyes, as if he meant to ask, "Come now, do you really know what 'one's own bread is?'" but he had not the courage to hurt her, so he only drew his cassock closer about him.
"Do you receive much salary as an actress?" inquired the priest's wife.
The priest became thoroughly frightened, and even began to wink at his wife. He expected Anninka to be offended, but Anninka was not offended and answered without a waver, "At present I get a hundred and fifty rubles a month, and my sister earns one hundred. But then we have benefit performances. All told, the two of us net about six thousand a year."
"Why does sister get less? Is she of inferior merit, or what?" continued the priest's wife.
"No, hers is a different genre. I have a voice and I sing. The audience likes it more. Sister's voice is a little weaker. So she plays in vaudeville mostly."
"So even in acting some are priests, some deacons and others just sextons?"
"Yes, but we share our income equally. That was our understanding from the very beginning—to share all money equally."
"Like good sisters? Well, there is nothing better than that. How much will that be, father? If you divide six thousand by months, how much will that make?"
"Five hundred rubles a month, and divided by two it makes two hundred and fifty rubles a month each."