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the name of Pilnikov has just entered the school and been put straight into the fifth form as if he’d come from Rouban, for his aunt has bought an estate in our district.”

“Yes, I know,” said Varvara, “I saw him when he came with his aunt. Such a pretty boy, almost like a girl, and always blushing.”

“But, dearest, why shouldn’t he look like a girl? He is a girl dressed up!”

“What do you mean!” exclaimed Varvara.

“They’ve thought of it on purpose to catch Ardalyon Borisitch,” said Grushina quickly with many gesticulations, very happy that she had such important news to tell. “You see this girl has a first cousin, a boy, an orphan, who went to school at Rouban. And this girl’s mother took him away from Rouban and used his papers to send the girl here. And you will notice that they have put him in a house where there are no other boys. He’s there alone, so that the whole matter, they thought, would be kept secret.”

“And how did you find out?” asked Varvara incredulously.

“Varvara darling, news gets about quickly. It was suspicious at once: all the other boys are like boys, but this one is so quiet and walks about as if he had just been dipped in the water. To look at he’s a fine-looking fellow, red-cheeked and chesty, but his companions notice that he’s very modest⁠—they tell him a word and he blushes at once. They tease him for being a girl. They do it for a lark and don’t realise that it’s the truth. And just think how shrewd they’ve been⁠—why, even the landlady doesn’t know anything.”

“How did you find out?” repeated Varvara.

“But, Varvara darling, what is there that I don’t know! I know everyone in the district. Why everyone knows that they have a boy at home the same age as this one. Why didn’t they send them to school together? They say that he was ill last summer and that he was to spend a year recuperating and then go back to school. But that’s all nonsense. The real schoolboy is at home. And then everyone knows that they had a girl and they say that she was married and went off to the Caucasus. But that’s another lie⁠—she didn’t go away. She’s living here disguised as a boy.”

“But what’s the object of it?” asked Varvara.

“What do you mean, ‘What’s the object?’ ” said Grushina animatedly. “To get hold of one of the instructors⁠—there are plenty of them bachelors. Or perhaps someone else. Disguised as a boy, she could go to men’s apartments, and there isn’t much she couldn’t do.”

“You say she’s a pretty girl?” said Varvara in apprehensive tones.

“Rather! She’s a fabulous beauty!” said Grushina. “She may be a little constrained now, but just wait, she’ll get used to things and show her true colours. She’ll turn plenty of heads in the town. And just think how shrewd they’ve been: as soon as I found out about this I tried to meet his landlady, or perhaps I should say her landlady.”

“It’s a topsy-turvy affair. Pah! God help us!” said Varvara.

“I went to Vespers at the parish church on St. Pantelemon’s day. She’s very pious. ‘Olga Vassilyevna,’ I say to her, ‘why do you keep only one student in your house now?’ ‘It seems to me,’ I say to her, ‘that one is not enough for you.’ And she says, ‘Why should I have any more? They’re a great trouble.’ And so I say, ‘Why, in past years you used to have two or three.’ And then she says⁠—just imagine, Varvara darling⁠—‘They stipulated that Sashenka alone should live in my house. They are well-to-do people,’ she says to me, ‘and they pay me a little more, as if they were afraid that the other boys would do him harm.’ Now what do you think of that?”

“Aren’t they sly blighters,” said Varvara indignantly. “Well, did you tell her that he was a wench?”

“I said to her: ‘Olga Vassilyevna, are you sure they haven’t foisted a girl upon you instead of a boy?’ ”

“Well, and what did she say?”

“She thought at first that I was joking, and she laughs. Then I say to her more seriously, ‘My dear Olga Vassilyevna,’ I say, ‘d’you know they say that this is a girl?’ But she wouldn’t believe me. ‘Nonsense,’ she says, ‘who put that into your head? I’m not blind.’ ”

This tale left Varvara dumbfounded. She believed the whole story just as she heard it, and she believed that an assault from yet another side was being prepared for her intended husband. She must somehow have the mask torn off this disguised girl as quickly as possible. For a long time they deliberated as to how this was to be done, but so far they could not think of any way.

When Varvara got home her annoyance was further increased by the disappearance of the raisins.

When Peredonov returned Varvara quickly and agitatedly told him that Klavdia had hidden away somewhere the pound of raisins and would not admit it.

“And what is more,” said Varvara, “she suggests that they’ve been eaten by the master. She says that you were in the kitchen for some reason or other when she was washing the floors and that you stopped there for a long time.”

“I didn’t stop there at all long,” said Peredonov glumly, “I only washed my hands there and I didn’t see any raisins.”

“Klavdiushka! Klavdiushka!” shouted Varvara, “Master says he didn’t even see the raisins⁠—that means you must have hidden them somewhere.”

Klavdia showed her reddened, tear-stained face from the kitchen.

“I didn’t take your raisins!” she shouted in a tear-choked voice. “I’ll pay for them, but I didn’t take them.”

“You’ll pay for them all right,” shouted Varvara angrily. “I’m not obliged to feed you on raisins.”

Peredonov burst out laughing and shouted:

“Diushka’s got away with a whole pound of raisins!”

“Heartless wretches!” shouted Klavdia, and slammed the door.

After dinner Varvara could not help telling Peredonov what she had heard about Pilnikov. She did not stop to

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