the cold, her teeth chattered; and in the bright moonlight she was pale, pretty, and strange. The patches of shade and the moonlight on her skin stood out sharply; and plainest of all stood out her dark eyebrows and her young, firm breast.
“Some impudent fellows across the river undressed me and sent me off in this way — as my mother bore me! Bring me something to put on.”
“Go into the hut yourself!” whispered Olga, with a shudder.
“The old ones will see me.”
And as a fact grandmother got restless, and growled; and the old man asked, “Who is there?” Olga brought out her shift and petticoat and dressed Fekla ; and the two women softly, and doing their best to close the doors without noise, went into the hut.
“So that's you, devil?” came an angry growl from grandmother, who guessed that it was Fekla. “May you be . . . night walker . . . there's no peace with you!”
“Don't mind, don't mind,” whispered Olga, wrapping Fekla up. “Don't mind, my heart!”
Again silence. The whole family always slept badly; each was troubled by something aggressive and insistent: the old man by a pain in the back; grandmother by worry and ill-temper; Marya by fright; the children by itching and hunger. And
