and alertness; and a few instants later Pavel's wife, Tatyana, appeared with the samovar, the tea-tray, rolls and cream.
In striking contrast to her gypsylike husband, she was a typical Russian woman, stout, with a flaxen head, with a big knob of hair tightly twisted round a horn comb, and no cap, with thick but pleasant features, and very good-natured grey eyes. She was dressed in a tidy though faded chintz gown; her hands were clean and well-shaped, though large; she bowed tranquilly, and with a firm, precise intonation, without any sort of affectation, she articulated, 'A very good health to you,' and set to work to lay the samovar and the tea things.
Marianna went up to her. 'Let me help you, Tatyana. Only give me a napkin.'
'No need, miss, we're used to it. Vassily Fedotitch has talked to me. If anything's wanted, kindly ask for it; we will do what we can with all the pleasure in life.'
'Tatyana, please don't call me miss.. . . I'm dressed like a lady, but still I'm . . . I'm quite . . .'
The steady gaze of Tatyana's keen eyes disconcerted Marianna; she broke off.
'And what then is it you will be?' Tatyana asked in her composed voice.
98
