That she was a street-walker I had seen at once, of course. There was no other kind of woman in that street. But when she told me so herself, my eyes filled with tears of shame and pity for her. I felt as if she had burned me by making that admission,--she, who not long ago had been so brave, independent, and clever. "Ekh! you!" she said, looking at me and sighing. "Go away from this place, I beg you! I urge you, don't come here, or you will be lost!" Then she began to speak softly and brokenly, as if she were talking to herself, bending over the table and drawing figures on the tray with her fingers. "But what are my entreaties and my advice to you? When my own daughter would not listen to me I cried to her: 'You can't throw aside your own mother. What are you thinking of?' And she--she said, 'I shall strangle myself!' And she went away to Kazan; she wants to learn to be a midwife. Good--good! But what about me? You see what I am now? What have I to cling to? And so I went on the streets." She fell Into a silence, and thought for a long time, soundlessly moving her lips. It was plain that she had forgotten me. The corners of her lips drooped; her mouth was curved like a sickle, and it was a torturing sight to see how her lips quivered, and how the wavering furrows on her face spoke without words. Her face was like that of an aggrieved child. Strands of hair had fallen from under her headkerchief, and lay on her cheek, or coiled behind her small ear. Her tears dropped into her cup of cold tea, and seeing this, she pushed the cup away and shut her eyes tightly, squeezing out two more tears. Then she wiped her face with her handkerchief. I could not bear to stay with her any longer. I rose quietly. "Good-by!" "Eh? Go--go to the devil!" She waved me away without looking at me; she had apparently forgotten who was with her. I returned to Ardalon in the yard. He had meant to come with me to catch crabs, and I wanted to tell him about the woman. But neither he nor Robenok were on the roof of the shed; and while I was looking for him in the disorderly yard, there arose from the street the sound of one of those rows which were frequent there. I went out through the gate and came into collision with Natalia, sobbing, wiping her bruised face with her headkerchief. Setting straight her disordered hair with her other hand, she went blindly along the footpath, and following her came Ardalon and Robenok. The latter was saying: "Give her one more; come on!" Ardalon overtook the woman, flourishing his fist. She turned her bosom full toward him; her face was terrible; her eyes blazed with hatred. "Go on, hit me!" she cried. I hung on to Ardalon's arm; he looked at me in amazement. "What's the matter with you?" "Don't touch her!" I just managed to say. He burst out laughing. "She is your lover? Aie, that Natashka, she has devoured our little monk."