“I am no dwarf, but she was a few inches taller than I. She was slender as a sweet-pine tree.  Her hands were delicate and soft, her fingers were like wax.  Hair and eyebrows were black, and her face like snow.  Her cheeks were tinged rose-red, and her glance! that I cannot forget even to this day.  It was brighter than a genuine Holland diamond.  Her eyelashes were so long that they cast shadows on her cheeks.  No, such a charming creature I have never seen in dreams, let alone reality.  She was—­God forgive my sins—­the pure image of the Mother of God in our church; yes, she was even more beautiful.  When I looked at her I could not turn my eyes away again.  I gazed at her and could not look enough.  On the betrothal day I sat in the corner of the room with my eyes nailed on Takusch.

“‘How sorry I am,’ thought I, ’that you with that angel face are to be the wife of a commonplace man, to be the mother of a family and go into a dirty, smoky kitchen.  Shall your tender hands become hard as leather with washing, ironing, kneading, and who knows what housework beside?  Shall your angel cheeks fade from the heat of the oven and your eyes lose their diamond-shine from sewing?’ Yes, so thought I, and my heart bled within me for this girl who ought to wear a queen’s crown and live in a palace.  Surely, if this rose maiden had lived in olden times she would certainly have married a king or a king’s son.  And the poor thing stood there like a lamb, for she did not understand what life was.  She thought marriage would be nothing more than a change in her dwelling-place.  Oh, but I was sorry that evening that she was going to marry only an ordinary, but still eligible, young man, and yet it would have been a great good fortune for her if this had come to pass.  Had we thought at that time that great misfortunes were in store for the poor child!  And that cursed Hemorrhoid Jack was the cause of them all!

“That betrothal day was the last happy day of the poor wretches.  I never afterward saw smiles on their faces, for from that day their circumstances grew worse and worse and their business became very bad.  They lost house and ground, moved about for several months from one rented house to another, until finally they disappeared from the city.

“The day after the betrothal Hemorrhoid Jack sent word to Sarkis by his clerk that Sarkis must pay 2,700 rubles for the tobacco and tea and 184 rubles for the manufactured goods.  I have forgotten to tell you that among the latter were old-fashioned dress-goods, taxed cloth, linen, satin, and some silk.  The clerk also said that if Sarkis did not pay the 184 rubles the ring and watch would be retained.

“Poor Sarkis was completely dazed.

“‘Have I bought the goods?’ he asked.

“‘Certainly you have bought them,’ answered the unscrupulous clerk.  ’Otherwise you would not have sold a chest of tea and a bale of tobacco.  Beside, the coat your boy is wearing was made from our cloth.’