She led him into the cabinet, and, opening the inner bolt of the shutter, threw it wide open. The daylight softly and sadly splashed against the red and gold walls, over the candelabra, over the soft red velveteen furniture. “Right here it began,” reflected Lichonin with sad regret. “I am going,” said Jennka. “Don’t you knuckle down too much before her, and Simeon too. Abuse them for all you’re worth. It’s daytime now, and they won’t dare do anything to you. If anything happens, tell them straight that, now, you’re going to the governor immediately and are going to tell on them. Tell ’em, that they’ll be closed up and put out of town in twenty-four hours. Bawl ’em out and they get like silk. Well, now, I wish you success.” She went away. After ten minutes had passed, into the cabinet floated Emma Edwardovna, the housekeeper, in a blue satin PEGNOIR; corpulent, with an important face, broadening from the forehead down to the cheeks, just like a monstrous squash; with all her massive chins and breasts; with small, keen eyes, without eyelashes; with thin, malicious, compressed lips. Lichonin, arising, pressed the puffy hand extended to him, studded with rings, and suddenly thought with aversion: “The devil take it! If this vermin had a soul, if it were possible to read this soul—then how many direct and indirect murders are lurking hidden within it!” It must be said, that in starting out for the Yamkas, Lichonin, besides money, had fetched a revolver along with him; and on the road, while walking, he had frequently shoved his hand into his pocket and had there felt the chill contact of the metal. He expected affront, violence, and was prepared to meet them in a suitable manner. But, to his amazement, all that he had presupposed and had feared proved a timorous, fantastic fiction. The business was far more simple, more wearisome and more prosaic, and at the same time more unpleasant. “JA, MEIN HERR,” said the housekeeper indifferently and somewhat loftily, settling into a low chair and lighting a cigarette. “You pay for one night and instead of that took already the girl for one more night and one more day. ALSO, you owe twenty-five more roubles yet. When we let off a girlie for a night we take ten roubles, and for the twenty-four hours twenty-five roubles. That’s a tax, like. Don’t you want a smoke, young man?” she stretched out her case, and Lichonin, without himself knowing why, took a cigarette. “I wanted to talk with you about something else entirely.” “O! Don’t trouble yourself to speak: I understand everything very well. Probably the young man wants to take these girl, those Liubka, altogether to himself to set her up, or in order to—how do you Russians call it?—in order to safe her? Yes, yes, yes, that happens. Twenty-two years I live in a brothel, and I know, that this happens with very foolish young peoples. But only I assure you, that from this will come nothing out.”