"Broken windows mean long life," said Prepolovenskaya with a restrained smile. When Peredonov and Varvara were going to bed that night, it seemed to him that Varvara had something evil in her mind; he took from her the knives and forks and hid them under the mattress. He mumbled in a slow, dull way: "I know you: as soon as you marry me you'll inform against me in order to get rid of me. You'll get a pension and I'll be in Petropavlosk jail working on the treadmill." That night Peredonov's mind wandered. Dim, terrible figures walked about noiselessly, kings and knaves, swinging their sceptres. They whispered to each other, tried to hide from Peredonov, and stealthily crept towards him under the pillow. But soon they grew bolder and began to walk and run and stir around Peredonov everywhere, upon the floor, upon the bed, upon the pillows. They whispered, they mocked at Peredonov, thrust out their tongues at him, made terrible grimaces before him, stretching out their mouths into deformed shapes. Peredonov saw that they were little and mischievous, that they would not kill him, but were only deriding him, and foreboding evil. But he felt a terrible fear--now he muttered exorcisms, fragments of spells he had heard in his childhood, now he began to curse them and to drive them from him, waving his arms and shouting in a hoarse voice. Varvara woke and called out irately: "What are you making such a row about, Ardalyon Borisitch? You won't let me sleep." "The queen of spades is annoying me. She's got a quilted capote on," mumbled Peredonov. Varvara rose, grumbling and cursing, and gave Peredonov some medicine. * * * * * In the local district newspaper a short article appeared recounting how a certain Madame K. whipped schoolboys who lived in her house--sons of the best local gentry. The notary, Goudayevsky, carried this news over the whole town and waxed indignant. And various other absurd rumours about the local _gymnasia_ went through the town: they talked about the girl who was dressed up as a schoolboy, later the name of Pilnikov came gradually to be mentioned with Liudmilla's. Sasha's companions began to tease him about his love for Liudmilla. At first he regarded their jests lightly, but later he would sometimes get indignant and defend Liudmilla, trying to convince them that nothing of the sort had happened. This made him ashamed to go to Liudmilla, and yet it drew him more strongly to her: confused, burning feelings of shame and attraction agitated him and vaguely passionate visions filled his imagination. CHAPTER XXI On Sunday when Peredonov and Varvara were lunching, someone entered the hall. Varvara went up to the door stealthily, as was her habit, and looked out. With the same stealthiness she returned to the table and whispered: "The postman. We'd better give him a vodka--he's brought another letter." Peredonov silently nodded,--he didn't grudge anyone a glass of vodka. Varvara shouted: