“A dog, ’m . . . what dog, ’m . . . may be, the dumb man’s dog, ’m,” he brought out in a rather unsteady voice.

“I don’t know whether it was the dumb man’s or whose, but it wouldn’t let me sleep.  And I wonder what we have such a lot of dogs for!  I wish to know.  We have a yard dog, haven’t we?”

“Oh yes, ’m, we have, ’m.  Wolf, ’m.”

“Well, why more? what do we want more dogs for?  It’s simply introducing disorder.  There’s no one in control in the house—­that’s what it is.  And what does the dumb man want with a dog?  Who gave him leave to keep dogs in my yard?  Yesterday I went to the window, and there it was lying in the flower-garden; it had dragged in nastiness it was gnawing, and my roses are planted there . . .”

The lady ceased.

“Let her be gone from to-day . . . do you hear?”

“Yes, ’m.”

“To-day.  Now go.  I will send for you later for the report.”

Gavrila went away.

As he went through the drawing-room, the steward, by way of maintaining order, moved a bell from one table to another; he stealthily blew his duck-like nose in the hall, and went into the outer-hall.  In the outer-hall, on a locker, was Stepan asleep in the attitude of a slain warrior in a battalion picture, his bare legs thrust out below the coat which served him for a blanket.  The steward gave him a shove, and whispered some instructions to him, to which Stepan responded with something between a yawn and a laugh.  The steward went away, and Stepan got up, put on his coat and his boots, went out and stood on the steps.  Five minutes had not passed before Gerasim made his appearance with a huge bundle of hewn logs on his back, accompanied by the inseparable Mumu.  (The lady had given orders that her bedroom and boudoir should be heated at times even in the summer.) Gerasim turned sideways before the door, shoved it open with his shoulder, and staggered into the house with his load.  Mumu, as usual, stayed behind to wait for him.  Then Stepan, seizing his chance, suddenly pounced on her, like a kite on a chicken, held her down to the ground, gathered her up in his arms, and without even putting on his cap, ran out of the yard with her, got into the first fly he met, and galloped off to a market-place.  There he soon found a purchaser, to whom he sold her for a shilling, on condition that he would keep her for at least a week tied up; then he returned at once.  But before he got home, he got off the fly, and going right round the yard, jumped over the fence into the yard from a back street.  He was afraid to go in at the gate for fear of meeting Gerasim.