At the beginning, Peredonov's reveries took on an erotic turn. He imagined the Routilov girls in the most seductive poses. But the longer he waited, the more irritated he became at being forced to wait. And the music, which had barely aroused his hopelessly coarse emotions, died for him. All around him the night descended quietly, and rustled with its ill-boding hoverings and whisperings. And it seemed even darker everywhere because Peredonov stood in an open space lit up by the drawing-room lamp; its two streaks of light broadened as they reached the neighbouring fence, the dark planks of which became visible. The trees in the depth of the garden assumed dark, suspicious, whispering shapes. Someone's slow, heavy footsteps sounded near-by on the street pavement. Peredonov began to feel apprehensive that while waiting here he might be attacked, and robbed, even murdered. He pressed against the very wall in the shadow, and timidly waited. But suddenly long shadows shot out across the streaks of light in the garden, a door slammed, and voices were heard on the verandah. Peredonov grew animated. "They are coming," he thought joyously, and agreeable thoughts about the three beauties stole softly once more into his mind--disgusting children of his dull imagination. The sisters stood in the passage. Routilov walked to the gate and looked to see if anyone was in the street. No one was to be seen or heard. "There's no one about," he whispered loudly to his sisters, using his hands as a speaking-trumpet. He remained in the street to keep watch. Peredonov joined him. "They're coming out to speak to you," said Routilov. Peredonov stood at the gate and looked through the chink between the gate and the gate-post. His face was morose and almost frightened, and all sorts of fancies and thoughts expired in his mind and were replaced by a heavy, aimless desire. Darya was the first to come up to the open gate. "What can I do to please you?" she asked. Peredonov was morosely silent. Darya said: "I will make you the crispest pancakes piping hot--only don't choke over them." Liudmilla cried over her shoulder: "I'll go down every morning and collect all the gossip to tell you. That will make us jolly." Between the two girls' cheerful faces showed for a moment Valeria's slender, capricious face, and her slight, frail voice was heard: "I wouldn't tell you for anything how I shall please you--you'd better guess yourself." The sisters ran away laughing. Their voices and laughter ceased directly they were in the house. Peredonov turned away from the gate; he was not quite satisfied. He thought: "They babbled something and then ran away." It would have been far better if they'd put it on paper. But he had already stood here waiting long enough. "Well, are you satisfied?" asked Routilov. "Which one do you like best?"