“Yes, but I don’t quite understand, Volodja!” said his mother, bewildered, while yet in her heart she could hear the joyous refrain, “Lida’s going to be married, going to be married!” Sanine shrugged his shoulders. “What is that you don’t understand? She was in love with one man, and now she’s in love with another; and to-morrow she’ll be in love with a third. Well, God bless her!” “What’s that you say?” cried Maria Ivanovna indignantly. Sanine leant against the table and folded his arms. “In the course of your life did you yourself only love one man?” he asked angrily. Maria Ivanovna rose. Her wrinkled face wore a look of chilling pride. “One shouldn’t speak to one’s mother like that,” she said sharply. “Who?” “How do you mean, who?” “Who shouldn’t speak?” said Sanine, as he looked at her from head to foot. For the first time he noticed how dull and vacant was the expression in her eyes, and how absurdly her cap was placed upon her head, like a cock’s comb. “Nobody ought to speak to me like that!” she said huskily. “Anyhow, I’ve done so!” replied Sanine, recovering his good temper, and resuming his pen. “You’ve had your share of life,” he said, “and you’ve no right to prevent Lida from having hers.” Maria Ivanovna said nothing, but stared in amazement at her son, while her cap looked droller than ever. She hastily checked all memories of her past youth with its joyous nights of love, fixing upon this one question in her mind. “How dare he speak thus to his mother?” Yet before she could come to any decision, Sanine turned round, and taking her hand said kindly: “Don’t let that worry you, but, you must keep Sarudine out of the house, for the fellow’s quite capable of playing us a dirty trick.” Maria Ivanovna was at once appeased. “God bless you, my boy,” she said. “I am very glad, for I have always liked Sacha Novikoff. Of course, we can’t receive Sarudine; it wouldn’t do, because of Sacha.” “No, just that! Because of Sacha,” said Sanine with a humorous look in his eyes. “And where is Lida?” asked his mother. “In her room.” “And Sacha?” She pronounced the pet name lovingly. “I really don’t know. He went to …” At that moment Dounika appeared in the doorway, and said: “Victor Sergejevitsch is here, and another gentleman.” “Turn them out of the house,” said Sanine. Dounika smiled sheepishly. “Oh! Sir, I can’t do that, can I?” “Of course you can! What business brings them here?” Dounika hid her face, and went out. Drawing herself up to her full height, Maria Ivanovna seemed almost younger, though her eyes looked malevolent. With astonishing ease her point of view had undergone a complete change, as if by playing a trump card she had suddenly scored. Kindly as her feelings for Sarudine had been while she hoped to have him as a son-in-law, they swiftly cooled when she realized that another was to marry Lida, and that Sarudine had only made love to her.