“Then you wouldn’t recognise him now. He used to be a nice lad, but he holds his head so high now that you couldn’t touch his nose with a pitchfork.”
“Really?”
“Yes, indeed. It’s true, isn’t it, girls?”
“It’s true, true, true!” chattered the whole bevy.
“Tut, tut, not quite so loud!” cried the devil, putting his fingers in his ears. “Tell me: what has happened to him, and since when has he changed?”
“Since he grew rich.”
“And began to lend money.”
“And opened a tavern.”
“He and his horrid Kharko have fuddled my husband Opanas so that the poor man never goes anywhere now except to the tavern.”
“He has ruined our husbands and fathers with his drink.”