Then she involuntarily questioned herself, What is this "treasure," anyhow? Is it really a treasure and is it really worth hoarding? Alas, she could find no satisfactory answer to her questions. On one hand, it is rather shameful to remain without honor, and on the other----Ah, the devil take it! And could it be that the whole purpose, the whole merit of her existence consisted in struggling every moment of her life to maintain this treasure? "In only six months I have succeeded in getting thirty bonds," Lubinka continued, "and lots of things. Look what a dress I have on!" Lubinka turned about, pulled at the front, then at the sides, letting herself be examined. The dress was really an expensive one and unusually well made. It came straight from Minangois in Moscow. "Kukishev is a kind sort," Lubinka resumed. "He will dress you up like a doll, and he will give you money. You'll be able to send the theatre to the devil. You have had enough of it." "Never!" cried Anninka heatedly. She had not as yet forgotten the phrase, "sacred art." "You may remain if you wish to. You will get your former salary again and outstrip Nalimova." Anninka was silent. "Well, good-by. They are waiting for me downstairs. Kukishev is there, too. Will you come?" But Anninka maintained her silence. "Well, think it over, if there is anything to think about. And when you have done thinking, come to see me. Good-by." On the seventeenth of September, Lubinka's birthday, the posters of the Samovarnov theatre announced a gala performance. Anninka appeared as _Fair Helen_ again, and the same evening the part of Orestes was performed by Pogorelskaya II, Lubinka. To complete the triumph of the sisters, Nalimova was given the part of Cleon, the blacksmith. She appeared on the stage dressed in tights and a short coat, her face touched with soot, and a sheet of iron in her hands. The audience was elated. Hardly did Anninka appear on the stage when the audience raised such a clamor that, already unaccustomed to ovations, she nearly broke into tears. And when, in the third act, in the scene where she is awakened at night, she stood up on the sofa almost naked, the house was one groaning mass of humanity. One man in the audience was so thoroughly worked up that he shouted to Menelaus, who was entering the stage, "Get out, damn you!" Anninka understood that the public had pardoned her. As for Kukishev, he was in full dress, white tie and white gloves. In the entr'actes he generously treated friends and strangers alike to champagne and spoke of his triumph with dignity. At last the manager of the theatre, brimming over with jubilation, appeared in Anninka's room and, kneeling before her, said, "Now, madam, you are a good girl and you will get your previous salary with the corresponding number of benefits."