"Don't be faint-hearted, Pavel Vassilyevitch," Prepolovenskaya went on. "Why aren't you engaged? You're young and handsome." "Perhaps Varvara Dmitrievna wouldn't have me," said Volodin, sniggering. "Why shouldn't she? You're much too timid!" "And perhaps I wouldn't have her," said Volodin, in desperation. "Perhaps I don't want to marry other people's cousins; perhaps I have a cousin of my own in my village." He was already beginning to believe that Varvara would marry him. Varvara was angry; she considered Volodin a fool, and moreover, his wages were only three-quarters of Peredonov's. Prepolovenskaya wanted to marry Peredonov to her sister, the fat daughter of a priest. That is why she tried to create a quarrel between Peredonov and Varvara. "Why are you trying to marry us?" asked Varvara, in an irritated way. "You'd better try to marry your little fool of a sister to Pavel Vassilyevitch." "Why should I take him from you?" said Prepolovenskaya, jokingly. Prepolovenskaya's jests gave a new turn to Peredonov's slow thoughts, and the _erli_ had already taken possession of his mind. Why did Volodin advise such a dish? Peredonov disliked thinking. He believed at once everything he was told; that was why he began to believe that Volodin was in love with Varvara. He thought: they would entangle Varvara, and then when he left for the inspector's job, they would poison him on the way with _erlis,_ and Volodin would take his place; he would be buried as Volodin, and Volodin would become inspector. A clever trick! There was a sudden noise in the passage. Peredonov and Varvara were frightened. Peredonov fixed his screwed-up eyes on the door. Varvara crept up to the parlour door, looked in, then, just as quietly, on tip-toe, balancing her arms and smiling in a distracted way, returned to the table. From the passage came a noise and shrill outcries as if two people were wrestling. Varvara whispered: "That's Ershova, frightfully drunk. Natashka won't let her in and she's trying to get into the parlour." "What shall we do?" asked Peredonov, fearfully. "I suppose we'd better go into the parlour," decided Varvara, "so that she shan't get in here." They entered the parlour and closed the door tightly behind them. Varvara went into the passage in the faint hope of restraining the landlady, or of persuading her to sit down in the kitchen. But the insolent woman kept pushing her way in, propped herself up against the door-post and poured out abusive compliments on the whole company. Peredonov and Varvara fussed about her and tried to make her sit down on a chair near the passage and farther from the dining-room. Varvara brought her from the kitchen, on a tray, vodka, beer and some tarts, but the landlady would not sit nor drink anything and kept on edging towards the dining-room, but she could not exactly find the door. Her face was red, her clothes were disordered, she was filthy and smelt of vodka, even at a distance. She shouted: