She recalled the details of the previous evening--the remote room in Trirodov’s house, the small gathering in it, the long discussions, the subsequent labours, the measured knock of the typing-machine, the damp pages put into portfolios. Then she thought how she, Stchemilov, Voronok and some one else walked out into the various streets of the town to paste up the bills. They put the paste on while still walking. They always took a look round first to see that no one was in sight. Then they would pause and quickly stick the bill on the fence. They would go on farther.... The effort had been successful. Elisaveta did not think where she was going; she had walked quite far out of her way, to a place that she had not been to before. She imagined that the quiet children were keeping guard over her. She walked trustfully in the forest silence, yielding her bare feet to the caresses of the moist forest grasses, and now listened, now ceased listening, in delicious drowsiness. Something rustled behind the bushes, some one’s nimble feet were running behind the light undergrowth. Suddenly she heard a loud laugh--almost at her ears; it broke into her sweet reverie with such a violent suddenness--like the trumpet of an archangel calling to wake the dear dead on Judgment Day. Elisaveta felt some one’s hot breath on her neck. A rough, perspiring hand caught her by her bared forearm. It was as if Elisaveta had suddenly awakened from a pleasant dream. She raised her frightened eyes and paused like one bewitched. Two vigorous ragged men stood before her. They were both handsome young fellows; one of them was astonishingly handsome, swarthy, black-eyed. Both were barely covered by their dirty rags, the openings in which showed their dirty, perspiring, powerful bodies. The men were laughing and crying insolently: “We’ve caught you this time, pretty one!” “We’ll fondle you to your heart’s content--you shan’t forget us so soon!” They drew closer and closer to her and blew their hot breath upon her. Elisaveta suddenly came to herself, tore herself away with a quick movement and began to run. A horror akin to wonder swung the resounding bell in her breast--her heavily beating heart. It hindered her running, and there was a beating of sharp little hammers under her knees. The two men quickly overtook her, and as they obstructed her passage they laughed insolently and said: “Ah, my beauty! Don’t make a fuss!” “You won’t get away anyway.” They jostled one another as they pulled Elisaveta about, each towards himself; and acted altogether awkwardly, as if they did not know who should begin and how. Their sensual panting bared their white teeth, vigorous as those of a wild beast. The beauty of the half-naked, swarthy man tempted Elisaveta--it was a sudden piquant temptation acting like a poison. The handsome man, his voice hoarse with agitation, shouted: “Tear her clothes! Let her dance naked before us, and make our eyes glad.”