“It was in Vassilyevsky Island you lodged?
At Mme. Bubnov’s, wasn’t it?” the old man asked, turning to me, trying to throw a note of unconcern into his question.
He spoke as though he felt it awkward to remain sitting silent.
“No, not there. At first it was in Myestchansky Street,” Nellie answered.
“It was very dark and damp there,” she added after a pause, “and mother got very ill there, though she was still walking about then.
I used to wash the clothes for her, and she used to cry.
There used to be an old woman living there, too, the widow of a captain; and there was a retired clerk, and he always came in drunk and made a noise every night.
I was dreadfully afraid of him.
Mother used to take me into her bed and hug me, and she trembled all over herself while he used to shout and swear.
Once he tried to beat the captain’s widow, and she was a very old lady and walked with a stick.
Mother was sorry for her, and she stood up for her; the man hit mother, too, and I hit him. . .”
Nellie stopped.
The memory agitated her; her eyes were blazing.
“Good heavens!” cried Anna Andreyevna, entirely absorbed in the story and keeping her eyes fastened upon Nellie, who addressed her principally.
“Then mother went away from there,” Nellie went on, “and took me with her.
That was in the daytime.
We were walking about the streets till it was quite evening, and mother was walking about and crying all the time, and holding my hand.
I was very tired. We had nothing to eat that day.
And mother kept talking to herself and saying to me:
‘Be poor, Nellie, and when I die don’t listen to anyone or anything.
Don’t go to anyone, be alone and poor, and work, and if you can’t get work beg alms, don’t go to him.’
It was dusk when we crossed a big street; suddenly mother cried out,
‘Azorka!
Azorka!’ And a big dog, whose hair had all come off, ran up to mother, whining and jumping up to her. And mother was frightened; she turned pale, cried out, and fell on her knees before a tall old man, who walked with a stick, looking at the ground.
And the tall old man was grandfather, and he was so thin and in such poor clothes.
That was the first time I saw grandfather.
Grandfather was very much frightened, too, and turned very pale, and when he saw mother kneeling before him and embracing his feet he tore himself away, pushed mother off, struck the pavement with his stick, and walked quickly away from us.
Azorka stayed behind and kept whining and licking mother, and then ran after grandfather and took him by his coattail and tried to pull him back. And grandfather hit him with his stick.
Azorka was going to run back to us, but grandfather called to him; he ran after grandfather and kept whining.
And mother lay as though she were dead; a crowd came round and the police came.
I kept calling out and trying to get mother up.
She got up, looked round her, and followed me.
I led her home.
People looked at us a long while and kept shaking their heads.”
Nellie stopped to take breath and make a fresh effort.
She was very pale, but there was a gleam of determination in her eyes.
It was evident that she had made up her mind at last to tell all.
There was something defiant about her at this moment.
“Well,” observed Nikolay Sergeyitch in an unsteady voice, with a sort of irritable harshness. “Well, your mother had injured her father, and he had reason to repulse her.”
“Mother told me that, too,” Nellie retorted sharply; “and as she walked home she kept saying ‘That’s your grandfather, Nellie, and I sinned against him; and he cursed me, and that’s why God has punished me.’ And all that evening and all the next day she kept saying this.
And she talked as though she didn’t know what she was saying. . .”
The old man remained silent.
“And how was it you moved into another lodging? “ asked Anna Andreyevna, still crying quietly.
“That night mother fell ill, and the captain’s widow found her a lodging at Mme. Bubnov’s, and two days later we moved, and the captain’s widow with us; and after we’d moved mother was quite ill and in bed for three weeks, and I looked after her.
All our money had gone, and we were helped by the captain’s widow and Ivan Alexandritch.”
“The coffinmaker, their landlord,” I explained.
“And when mother got up and began to go about she told me all about Azorka.”
Nellie paused.
The old man seemed relieved to turn the conversation to the dog.
“What did she tell you about Azorka?” he asked, bending lower in his chair, so as to look down and hide his face more completely.