Mashurina shook back her heavy hair. Twisted up carelessly into a small knot behind, it fell in front over her forehead and eyebrows.
'Ah, well', she declared; 'since the order's given, it's no use discussing it!'
'Of course not. Only it can't be done without money; and where are we to get the money?'
Mashurina pondered. 'Nezhdanov will have to produce it,' she said in an undertone, as though to herself.
'That's the very thing I've come about,' observed Ostrodumov.
'Have you got the letter with you?' Mashurina asked suddenly.
'Yes. Would you like to read it?'
'Yes, give it me . . . no, you needn't, though. We'll read it together . . . afterwards.'
'I tell the truth,' muttered Ostrodumov; 'you needn't doubt it.'
'Well, I don't doubt it.'
And both sank into silence again; and as before, only the rings of smoke floated from their silent lips, and coiling feebly rose above their dishevelled heads.
The thud of over-shoes was heard in the anteroom.
'Here he is!' whispered Mashurina.
6
