Pereshìvkina. It’s the truth I’m telling you, sir. They were only married one year, and now she’s been a widow for more than a year.... But you won’t be angry with me, little mother?
Madame P. Well, go on!
Pereshìvkina. She’s just a beauty to look at; and very good and kind—and then so modest! It’s quite wonderful. And she’s saving, too, and doesn’t throw away her money on dresses and foolery.
Paul. That’s to say, she’s miserly.
Pereshìvkina. No, no, not miserly, only saving—just a careful housewife. Now, you see, the dowry that she had when she was married all belongs to her. She’s got a hundred and fifty thousand in money alone.
Paul. A hundred and fifty thousand!
Pereshìvkina. I saw it myself, sir. She’s got all the notes in her dressing-case; I saw her count it. Dear me, what a silly old woman I am! You’d much better tell me to hold my tongue, or it’ll get me into trouble. She’s a good woman, and she’s been kind to me, but all the same she’s not the first thing in the world to me. I don’t want you to be angry with me because of her.
Madame P. and Paul. Never mind; go on, go on!
Pereshìvkina. Well, I’ll tell you, if you wish it. You see, little mother, it’s like—well, you know how it is with women.... She’s young, and she’s been a widow for over a year, and so you see ... and don’t think I’m telling you lies—I’d count it a sin. I always wished you well, madame; I haven’t forgotten! Of course, I’m only a poor woman, but all the same, I don’t forget kindnesses. And if ever I can do you a service——
Paul. There, there! (With an impatient gesture.)