with some heady, blissful, meek, bashful and unseemly smile, in her languorous, softened, moist lips, which she is constantly licking; in her short, quiet laugh—­ the laugh of an idiot.  Yet at the same time she—­this veritable victim of the social temperament—­in everyday life is very good-natured, yielding, entirely uncovetous and is very much ashamed of her inordinate passion.  Toward her mates she is tender, likes very much to kiss and embrace them and sleep in the same bed with them, but still everybody has a little aversion for her, it would seem.

“Mannechka, sweetie, dearie,” says Pasha lightly touching Manya’s hand with emotion, “tell my fortune, my precious little child.”

“We-ell,” Manya pouts her lips just like a child, “let’s play a little more.”

“Mannechka, my little beauty, you little good-looker, my precious, my own, my dear...”

Manya gives in and lays out the pack on her knees.  A suit of hearts comes out, a small monetary interest and a meeting in the suit of spades with a large company in the king of clubs.

Pasha claps her hands joyously: 

“Ah, it’s my Levanchik!  Well, yes, he promised to come to-day.  Of course, it’s Levanchik.”

“That’s your Georgian!”

“Yes, yes, my little Georgian.  Oh, how nice he is.  I’d just love never to let him go away from me.  Do you know what he told me the last time?  ’If you’ll go on living in a sporting house, then I’ll make both you dead, and make me dead.’  And he flashed his eyes at me so!”

Jennie, who had stopped near, listens to her words and asks haughtily: 

“Who was it said that?”

“Why, my little Georgian, Levan.  ’Both for you death and for me death.’”

“Fool!  He isn’t any little Georgian at all, but simply a common Armenian.  You’re a crazy fool.”

“Oh no, he isn’t—­he’s a Georgian.  And it is quite strange on your part...”

“I’m telling you—­a common Armenian.  I can tell better.  Fool!”

“What are you cursing for, Jennie?  I didn’t start cursing you first off, did I?”

“You just try and be the first to start cursing!  Fool!  Isn’t it all the same to you what he is?  Are you in love with him, or what?”

“Well, I am in love with him!”

“Well, and you’re a fool.  And the one with the badge in his cap, the lame one—­are you in love with him too?”

“Well, what of it?  I respect him very much.  He is very respectable.”

“And with Nicky the Book-keeper?  And with the contractor?  And with Antoshka-Kartoshka? [Footnote:  Tony the Potato.-Trans.] And with the fat actor?  Oo-ooh, you shameless creature!” Jennie suddenly cries out.  “I can’t look at you without disgust.  You’re a bitch!  In your place, if I was such a miserable thing, I’d rather lay hands on myself, strangle myself with a cord from my corset.  You vermin!”

Pasha silently lowers her eyelashes over her tear-filled eyes.  Manya tries to defend her.