"And what have you decided, about yourself?" Fedulych continued to question.
"Why, what was there to decide about myself?" said Anninka, a bit confused, feeling that she would again be compelled to listen to orations on the "treasure."
"Aren't you really going to give up acting?"
"No—that is, I haven't thought of it so far. But what harm is there in my earning my own bread?"
"I don't see any good in going with a bagpipe from fair to fair to amuse drunkards. Surely you are a lady."
Anninka did not reply, only knitting her brows. A painful thought drummed in her head, "God, when will I leave this place?"
"Of course, you know better how to take care of yourself. But we thought you would come back to live with us. The house is warm, and roomy enough to play tag in. The late mistress looked after the building herself. And if you feel dull, why then you can go sleigh-riding. In the summer you can go to the woods to pick mushrooms."
"We have all kinds of mushrooms here—lots of them," lisped Afimyushka temptingly.
Anninka leaned her elbows on the table and tried not to listen.
"There was a girl here," continued Fedulych cruelly. "She was a chambermaid in St. Petersburg. She says all actresses must have special passports. Every month they have to present their license at the police station."