When she had gone Avdeitch ate a little soup, washed up the crockery again, and resumed his work. All the time, though, he kept his eye upon the window, and as soon as ever a shadow fell across it he would look up to see who was passing. Acquaintances of his came past, and people whom he did not know, yet never anyone very particular. * * * * * Then suddenly he saw something. Opposite his window there had stopped an old pedlar-woman, with a basket of apples. Only a few of the apples, however, remained, so that it was clear that she was almost sold out. Over her shoulder was slung a sack of shavings, which she must have gathered near some new building as she was going home. Apparently, her shoulder had begun to ache under their weight, and she therefore wished to shift them to the other one. To do this, she balanced her basket of apples on the top of a post, lowered the sack to the pavement, and began shaking up its contents. As she was doing this, a boy in a ragged cap appeared from somewhere, seized an apple from the basket, and tried to make off. But the old woman, who had been on her guard, managed to turn and seize the boy by the sleeve, and although he struggled and tried to break away, she clung to him with both hands, snatched his cap off, and finally grasped him by the hair. Thereupon the youngster began to shout and abuse his captor. Avdeitch did not stop to make fast his awl, but threw his work down upon the floor, ran to the door, and went stumbling up the steps—losing his spectacles as he did so. Out into the street he ran, where the old woman was still clutching the boy by the hair and threatening to take him to the police, while the boy, for his part, was struggling in the endeavor to free himself. “I never took it,” he was saying. “What are you beating me for? Let me go.” Avdeitch tried to part them as he took the boy by the hand and said: “Let him go, my good woman. Pardon him for Christ’s sake.” “Yes, I will pardon him,” she retorted, “but not until he has tasted a new birch-rod. I mean to take the young rascal to the police.” But Avdeitch still interceded for him. “Let him go, my good woman,” he said. “He will never do it again. Let him go for Christ’s sake.” The old woman released the boy, who was for making off at once had not Avdeitch stopped him. “You must beg the old woman’s pardon,” he said, “and never do such a thing again. I saw you take the apple.” The boy burst out crying, and begged the old woman’s pardon as Avdeitch commanded. “There, there,” said Avdeitch. “Now I will give you one. Here you are,”—and he took an apple from the basket and handed it to the boy. “I will pay you for it, my good woman,” he added.