While the girls talked, two of the young men of the village had crept behind Grusha unseen. Each held one of her plaits in his hand as a rein, and they began shouting as to a restive horse, when she struggled to escape. Grusha’s heavy plaits were favorite playthings, never safe from attack; for she was a belle in the village. In the confusion of the romp, Masha turned away and walked off. “I will go to Anna Evauovna,” she said to herself. It is easy to state the positions of Grusha and Masha. They were only two little Russian peasant girls, who worked in the garden of the Prince in Summer, and about his great house in winter. But for Anna Evauovna, the Prince himself could hardly have defined her position. She had been Njania (nurse) to his children, and was now housekeeper. Anna Evauovna was the only peasant on the estate who wore a cap, who spoke a pure Russian, and wore dresses and shoes. She was older by years than her actual days numbered, capable, resolute, silent and invaluable to her employers. The peasants spoke to her with deference, calling her Anna Evauovna. Behind her back they called her the old witch, and the Princess had been appealed to for protection from her more than once. Anna Evauovna was in the housekeeping room assorting the house linen from the wash, when Masha came to her and humbly proffered her request to know the future. The old woman looked up at the girl keenly. “He who wants to know too much grows old too soon, Masha,” she said. “Tell me only a little then, Anna Evauovna, but tell me that.” “Have it your own way then, Masha. Open the drawer of the table and look in the left hand corner, and you will find a pack of cards under a wooden box that has a strange smell about it. Bring them to me, but no, I forgot—the box has something lying open in it which you might touch and find harmful.” As Anna Evauovna opened the drawer herself, Masha made the sign of the cross furtively. The old woman turning sharply, caught the gesture, and the girl’s head drooped in confusion. Anna Evauovna’s eyes twinkled. She shuffled the cards and began to deal them out on the table, glancing now and then at Masha, who sat opposite, the light of the lamp falling on her round good-natured face, fair hair, and solemn blue eyes. “Ah! there you are,” said Anna Evauovna, as the queen of hearts fell. “And there is a dark man near you—the king of clubs. Now mark, you are nearer to him in thought than he to you. Ah! ah! ah! I thought so. Here she comes, there lies the cause. The queen of clubs, a dark woman, lies between you and him. She separates you.” Masha bent forward breathless. “And will she succeed, Njania?”