“My dear, my adored King Solomon!  Thy Shoilamite, thy girl of the vineyard, greets thee with burning kisses ...  Dear, to-day is a holiday for me, and I am infinitely happy.  To-day I am free, as well as you.  He has gone away to Homel for twenty-four hours on business matters, and I want to pass all the evening and all the night in your place.  Ah, my beloved!  All my life I am ready to pass on my knees before thee.  I do not want to go anywhere.  The suburban road-houses and cabarets have bored me long ago.  I want you, only you ... you ... you alone.  Await me, then, in the evening, my joy, about ten-eleven-o’clock!  Prepare a great quantity of cold white wine, a canteloupe, and sugared chestnuts.  I am burning, I am dying from desire!  It seems to me, I will tire you out!  I can not wait!  My head is spinning around, my face burning, and my hands as cold as ice.  I embrace you.  Thy Valentina.”

That very same evening, about eleven o’clock, she artfully, through conversation, led the notary into showing her his fireproof safe; playing upon his odd, pecuniary vanity.  Rapidly gliding with her glance over the shelves and the movable boxes, Tamara turned away with a skillfully executed yawn and said: 

“Fie, what a bore!”

And, having embraced the notary’s neck, she whispered with her lips at his very ears, burning him with her hot breath: 

“Lock up this nastiness, my treasure!  Let’s go! ....  Let’s go! ...”

And she was the first to go out into the dining room.

“Come here, now, Volodya!” she cried out from there.  “Come quicker!  I want wine and after that love, love, love without end! ...  No!  Drink it all, to the very bottom!  Just as we will drain our love to the very bottom today!”

The notary clinked glasses with her and at one gulp drank off his glass.  Then he drew in his lips and remarked: 

“Strange ...  The wine seems to be sort of bitter to-day.”

“Yes!” agreed Tamara and looked attentively at her lover.  “This wine is always the least bit bitter.  For such is the nature of Rhine wines...”

“But to-day it’s especially strong,” said the notary.  “No, thanks, my dear—­I don’t want any more!”

After five minutes he fell asleep, sitting in his chair; his head thrown back against its back, and his lower jaw hanging down.  Tamara waited for some time and started to awaken him.  He was without motion.  Then she took the lit candle, and, having placed it on the window sill giving out upon the street, went out into the entrance hall and began to listen, until she heard light steps on the stairs.  Almost without a sound she opened the door and let in Senka, dressed like a real gentleman, with a brand new leather hand-bag in his hands.

“Ready?” asked the thief in a whisper.

“He’s sleeping,” answered Tamara, just as quietly.  “Look and here are the keys.”

They passed together into the study with the fireproof safe.  Having looked over the lock with the aid of a flashlight, Senka swore in a low voice: