In the town _maman_ and Volodya lived with Marya Petrovna, a lady of noble rank, who had a large flat and let rooms to boarders. _Maman_ had two rooms, one with windows and two pictures in gold frames hanging on the walls, in which her bed stood and in which she lived, and a little dark room opening out of it in which Volodya lived. Here there was a sofa on which he slept, and, except that sofa, there was no other furniture; the rest of the room was entirely filled up with wicker baskets full of clothes, cardboard hat-boxes, and all sorts of rubbish, which _maman_ preserved for some reason or other. Volodya prepared his lessons either in his mother's room or in the "general room," as the large room in which the boarders assembled at dinner-time and in the evening was called. On reaching home he lay down on his sofa and put the quilt over him to stop his shivering. The cardboard hat-boxes, the wicker baskets, and the other rubbish, reminded him that he had not a room of his own, that he had no refuge in which he could get away from his mother, from her visitors, and from the voices that were floating up from the "general room." The satchel and the books lying about in the corners reminded him of the examination he had missed.... For some reason there came into his mind, quite inappropriately, Mentone, where he had lived with his father when he was seven years old; he thought of Biarritz and two little English girls with whom he ran about on the sand.... He tried to recall to his memory the colour of the sky, the sea, the height of the waves, and his mood at the time, but he could not succeed. The English girls flitted before his imagination as though they were living; all the rest was a medley of images that floated away in confusion.... "No; it's cold here," thought Volodya. He got up, put on his overcoat, and went into the "general room." There they were drinking tea. There were three people at the samovar: _maman_; an old lady with tortoiseshell pince-nez, who gave music lessons; and Avgustin Mihalitch, an elderly and very stout Frenchman, who was employed at a perfumery factory. "I have had no dinner to-day," said _maman_. "I ought to send the maid to buy some bread." "Dunyasha!" shouted the Frenchman. It appeared that the maid had been sent out somewhere by the lady of the house. "Oh, that's of no consequence," said the Frenchman, with a broad smile. "I will go for some bread myself at once. Oh, it's nothing." He laid his strong, pungent cigar in a conspicuous place, put on his hat and went out. After he had gone away _maman_ began telling the music teacher how she had been staying at the Shumihins', and how warmly they welcomed her. "Lili Shumihin is a relation of mine, you know," she said. "Her late husband, General Shumihin, was a cousin of my husband. And she was a Baroness Kolb by birth...." "_Maman_, that's false!" said Volodya irritably. "Why tell lies?"