Ast. Who's there? Come in, come in!
[Enter Spiridón, a man with a cringing, crafty manner, in a sheepskin coat with snow on it. He stands by the door, facing the eikon, crossing himself with large gestures and bowing very low towards it.]
Spir. [looking round]. Good-day, sir, good-day. [Crossing himself again.] May the holy saints preserve all in this house.
Ast. Ah! it's you, Spiridón?
Spir. Yes, sir. It is Spiridón the stonemason.
Ast. What brings you here, Spiridón?
Spir. Is Praskóvya Petróvna not at home?
Ast. No, she has gone to Vespers at St. Pantaléimon's in the Marsh.
Spir. The service is late to-night.
Ast. Yes.... You are a hard man, Spiridón.