"Now there's no holding him," said the girl, and smiled at him tenderly. Then, turning to Ilya, "he's always like that, either as gay and shining as a rainbow, or dull, and grey, and cross." "That's not good," said Lunev decidedly. Then all three began to chatter gaily and cheerfully, breaking into careless laughter every now and then. There was a knock at the door, and a voice asked: "Vyera, may I come in?" "Come in! come in! Ilya Jakovlevitsch, this is my friend, Lipa." Ilya rose from his chair, and turned towards the door. A tall, stately woman stood before him, and looked in his face with calm blue eyes. From her dress came a sweet perfume, her cheeks were fresh and red, and her head was adorned with a crown-like mass of hair that made her look even taller. "I was sitting alone in my room, so bored, and then, all at once I heard you talking and laughing, and so--well, I came here. You don't mind I hope? There's a gentleman without a lady. I will entertain him--shall I?" With a graceful gesture, she placed her chair near Ilya's, seated herself, and asked: "You're rather bored with them, aren't you? They kiss and hug one another, and you're envious, eh?" "I'm not bored with them," said Ilya, confused by feeling her so near. "That's a pity," she said quietly, then turned from Ilya and went over to Vyera. "Just think, I went to Mass yesterday at the nunnery, and I saw such a pretty nun in the choir, such a dear. I couldn't take my eyes off her, and thought why on earth did she go into the nunnery. I felt quite sorry." "Why? I shouldn't pity her," said Vyera. "Oh! Who's going to believe that!" Ilya breathed in the costly perfume that floated round this woman, he looked sidelong at her and listened to her voice. She spoke with extraordinary calm and self-possession, there was something drowsy in her voice and it seemed as though a powerful, delightful scent streamed from her words also. "D'you know, Vyera, I'm still considering if I shall go to Poluektov or not." "I can't advise you." "Perhaps I will. He's old and rich, and those are two important points. But he's miserly. I want five thousand roubles in my name in the bank, and a hundred and fifty roubles a month, and he only offers three thousand and a hundred." "Don't talk of it now, Lipotshka!" "All right, as you like," said Lipa, quietly, and turned again to Ilya. "Now, young man, let us talk a little. I like you, you've a nice face and serious eyes. What will you say to that?" "I? I shan't say anything," said he, laughing carelessly, but feeling clearly how this woman ensnared him with her magic. "Nothing? oh! you're bored;--what are you?" "Pedlar." "R--really? I thought you were a clerk in a bank, or in some shop. You look very good form." "I like cleanliness," said Ilya. He felt oppressively hot, and his head was in a whirl with the perfume. "You like cleanliness?--that's very nice. Are you a good hand at guessing?" "I don't understand."