Kolya growled out something in the back, but Jennka purposely did not listen to him.

“And please make it as quick as possible, housekeeper dear, won’t you be so kind?”

“Right away, right away, miss.”

“Why, why do you do this, Jennie?” asked Gladishev with anguish.  “Well, what’s that for? ...Is it possible that you want to tell about it? ...”

“Wait awhile, that’s not your business...Wait a while, I won’t do anything unpleasant for you.”

After a minute Little White Manka came in her brown, smooth, deliberately modest dress of a high school girl.

“What did you call me for, Jennie?  Or have you quarreled?”

“No, we haven’t quarreled, Mannechka, but my head aches very much,” answered Jennka calmly, “and for that reason my little friend finds me very cold.  Be a friend, Mannechka, stay with him, take my place!”

“That’s enough, Jennie, stop it, darling!” in a tone of sincere suffering retorted Kolya.  “I understand everything, everything, it’s not necessary now ...  Don’t be finishing me off, then! ...”

“I don’t understand anything of what’s happened,” the frivolous Manka spread out her hands.  “Maybe you’ll treat a poor little girl to something?”

“Well, go on, go on!” Jennka sent her away gently.  “I’ll come right away.  We just played a joke.”

Already dressed, they stood for long in the open door between the bedroom and the corridor; and without words sadly looked at each other.  And Kolya did not understand, but sensed, that at this moment in his soul was taking place one of those tremendous crises which tell imperiously upon the entire life.

Then he pressed Jennie’s hand hard and said: 

“Forgive! ...  Will you forgive me, Jennie?  Will you forgive? ...”

“Yes, my boy! ...  Yes, my fine one! ...  Yes...yes...”

She tenderly, softly, like a mother, stroked his closely cropped harsh head and gave him, a slight shove into the corridor.

“Where are you bound now?” she sent after him, half opening her door.

“I’ll take my comrade right away, and then home.”

“As you know best! ...  God bless you, dearie!”

“Forgive me! ...  Forgive me! ...” once more repeated Kolya, stretching out his hands to her.

“I’ve already told you, my splendid boy...And you forgive me too...For we won’t see each other anymore!”

And she, having closed the door, was left alone.

In the corridor Gladishev hesitated, because he did not know how to find the room to which Petrov had retired with Tamara.  But the housekeeper Zociya helped him, running past him very quickly, and with a very anxious, alarmed air.

“Oh, I haven’t time to bother with you now!” she snarled back at Gladishev’s question.  “Third door to the left.”

Kolya walked up to the door indicated and knocked.  Some sort of bustle and whispering sounded in the room.  He knocked once more.