"Because no one dares to appear before the authorities without a uniform. You might get beaten for doing it." Volodin sniggered. Peredonov bent over him closer and whispered: "Sometimes he even lives in the shape of a were-wolf. You may think it's simply a cat, but that's an error, it's really a gendarme running about. No one hides from a cat, and he listens to everything that's said." * * * * * At last, after a week and a half, the Head-Master's wife paid a visit to Varvara. She arrived with her husband on a week-day at four o'clock, all dressed up, attractive-looking, bringing a perfume of violets with her--altogether unexpectedly for the Peredonovs, who for some reason had expected the Khripatches on a Sunday, earlier in the day. They were dumbfounded. Varvara was in the kitchen half-dressed and dirty. She rushed away to get dressed and Peredonov received the visitors, looking as if he had been just awakened. "Varvara will be here immediately," he mumbled, "she's dressing herself. She was working--we have a new servant who doesn't understand our ways. She's a hopeless fool." Soon Varvara came in, dressed somehow, with a flushed, frightened face. She extended to her visitors a dirty, damp hand, and said in a voice trembling with agitation: "You must forgive me for keeping you waiting--we didn't expect you on a week-day." "I seldom go out on a Sunday," said Madame Khripatch. "There are drunkards in the street. I let my servant-maid have her day out." The conversation somehow started, and the kindness of the Head-Master's wife somewhat encouraged Varvara. Madame Khripatch treated Varvara with a slight contemptuousness, but graciously--as with a repented sinner who had to be treated kindly but who might still soil one's hands. She gave Varvara several hints, as if incidentally, about clothes and housekeeping. Varvara tried to please the Head-Master's wife, but her red hands and chapped lips still trembled with fear. This embarrassed Madame Khripatch. She tried to be even more gracious, but an involuntary fastidiousness overcame her. By her whole attitude she showed Varvara that there could never be a close acquaintance between them. But she did this so graciously that Varvara did not understand, and imagined that she and Madame Khripatch would become great friends. Khripatch had the look of a man out of his element, but he concealed the fact skilfully and manfully. He refused the Madeira on the ground that he was not used to drinking wine at that hour of the day. He talked about the local news, about the approaching changes in the composition of the district court. But it was very noticeable that he and Peredonov moved in different circles of local society. They did not make a long visit. Varvara was glad when they left; they just came and went. She said with relief as she took off her clothes: