"He could not help hearing them," said the priest's wife. "It was known throughout the district."
"So we live on in this wise. At first we had hopes, at least, now we have no hopes left. Not to mention our own personal needs, there is nothing to perform the service with sometimes—neither host nor red wine."
Anninka wanted to rise and take leave, but a new tray appeared on the table, with two dishes on it, one of mushrooms, the other with bits of caviar, and a bottle of Madeira.
"Do oblige us and have a bite—it's the best we have."
Anninka obeyed and quickly swallowed some mushrooms, but refused the Madeira.
"Another thing I meant to ask," continued the priest's wife, "we have a girl in our parish, the daughter of a peasant in the service of Lyshechevsky. She was the chambermaid of a certain actress in St. Petersburg. She says the life of an actress is very easy and pleasant, but an actress must produce a special passport every month. Is that true?"
Anninka stared at her and did not understand.
"That is for the greater freedom," explained the priest. "But I think she did not tell the truth. On the contrary, I heard that many actresses even get pensions from the government for their services."
Anninka became convinced that matters were going from bad to worse, and she rose to take leave.
"We thought you would give up acting now," the priest's wife persisted.