Just then the door opened and an attractive, stoutish, blonde girl entered. She had wise, kindly eyes, was dressed in black silk, and brought us cold meat and eggs with our tea. Severin took one of the latter, and decapitated it with his knife.
“Didn’t I tell you that I want them soft-boiled?” he cried with a violence that made the young woman tremble.
“But my dear Sevtchu—” she said timidly.
“Sevtchu, nothing,” he yelled, “you are to obey, obey, do you understand?” and he tore the kantchuk1 which was hanging beside the weapons from its hook.
[Footnote 1: A long whip with a short handle.]
The woman fled from the chamber quickly and timidly like a doe.
“Just wait, I’ll get you yet,” he called after her.
“But Severin,” I said placing my hand on his arm, “how can you treat a pretty young woman thus?”
“Look at the woman,” he replied, blinking humorously with his eyes. “Had I flattered her, she would have cast the noose around my neck, but now, when I bring her up with the kantchuk, she adores me.”
“Nonsense!”