"Ekh! little winch! your eyes are already red," said Mosolof. All began to make fun of Nikítin in the same way.
"It's only because it choked me, but I can generally drink," said he, in justification. They began to look at their watches. "It's only eleven o'clock; we can count on half an hour more; we shall have time."
In half an hour Katerina Vasílyevna went to wake the lady in mourning. She was met by her on the threshold, stretching herself after her nap.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Splendidly."
"And how do you feel?"
"Magnificently. I told you it was a mere trifle; I got tired because I fooled too much. Now I shall be more staid."
But, no, she could succeed in being staid. In five minutes she was already charming Pólozof, and ordering round the young men, and was drumming out a march, or something of the sort, with the handles of two forks on the table. Then she was in a hurry to leave; but the others, who had got into a gale from her renewed riot, did not want to go.
"Are the horses ready?" she asked, getting up from the lunch table.
"Not yet. We have just sent to have them put in."
"You good-for-nothings! But if this is so, come, Viéra Pavlovna, sing us something; I have been told that you have a splendid voice."
Viéra Pavlovna sang.
"I shall often ask you to sing," said the lady in mourning.
"Now it's your turn! now it's your turn!" they all cried. But they had hardly time to urge her before she was seated at the piano.
"Well, all right, only I can't sing; but that makes no difference. I don't care for anything. Now, mesdames and messieurs, I am not going to sing for your sake, but for my children. Children, don't you laugh at your ma!" At the same time she struck the chords which lead to the accompaniment. "Children, don't you dare to laugh, for I shall sing with feeling." And, trying to bring out the notes as squeaky as possible, she sang:—
"Moans the dark blue—"
