He pulled out the tin box and threw the string-tied paper package down to the wolf.
Vasilisa staggered and leaned against the wall.
The wolf began to shake his head and shook it for a long time as he stared at the half-dead Vasilisa.
'Well, well, well', he said bitterly. 'What's all this?
Nothing here, you said, but seems you've sealed up your money in the wall.
You ought to be shot!'
'Oh, no!' cried Wanda.
Something odd happened to Vasilisa, and he suddenly burst into convulsive laughter. It was a terrible laugh because Vasilisa's eyes were alive with fear and only his lips, nose and cheeks were laughing.
'But I haven't broken the law.
There's nothing there except some papers from the bank and a few little things . . .
There's not much money . . .
I've earned it all . . .
Anyway, all tsarist money is cancelled now . . .'
As Vasilisa spoke he stared at the wolf as though the sight of him gave him a morbid, unnatural pleasure.
'You should be arrested', said the wolf reprovingly as he shook the packet and dropped it into the bottomless pocket of his tattered greatcoat. 'Come on, lads, see to the desk.'
From the desk drawers, opened by Vasilisa himself, there poured forth heaps of paper, seals, signets, postcards, pens, cigarette cases.
The green carpet and the red cloth of the table-top were strewn with paper, sheets of paper fell rustling to the floor.
The disfigured man overturned the wastepaper basket.
In the drawing-room they tapped the walls superficially, almost reluctantly.
The giant pulled back the carpet and stamped on the floor, purposely leaving a row of marks like burns in the wood.
Now that the current had been increased for night-time, the electricity sputtered cheerfully on full power and the phonograph horn glittered brightly.
Vasilisa followed the three men, stumbling and dragging his feet.
A certain stunned calm came over Vasilisa and his thoughts seemed to flow more coherently.
Then into the bedroom - instant chaos as clothes, sheets poured out of the mirror-fronted wardrobe and the mattress was turned upside down.
The giant suddenly stopped, a shy grin broke out over his face and he looked down.
From beneath the ravaged bed peeped Vasilisa's new kid boots with lacquered toes.
The giant laughed, glanced timidly at Vasilisa.
'There's a smart pair of boots', he said in a high-pitched voice. 'I wonder if they fit me?'
Vasilisa had no time to think of a reply before the giant bent down and tenderly picked up the boots.
Vasilisa shuddered.
'They're kid', he said vaguely.
As the wolf turned on him, bitter anger flashed in his squinting eyes:
'Quiet, you bastard', he said grimly. 'Shut up!' he said again, suddenly losing his temper. 'You ought to thank us for not shooting you as a thief and a bandit for hoarding that fortune of yours.
So you be quiet.' His eyes glistened with menace as he advanced on the deathly pale Vasilisa. 'You've been sitting here, making your pile, feeding your ugly mug till you're as pink as a pig - and now you can see what people like us have to wear on their feet.
See?
His feet are frost-bitten and wrapped in rags, he rotted in the trenches for you while you were sitting at home and playing the phonograph.
Ah, you mother-f. . .' In his eyes flashed an urge to punch Vasilisa in the ear, and he swung his arm.
Wanda screamed:
'No . . .'
The wolf did not quite dare to punch the respectable Vasilisa and only poked him in the chest with his fist.
Chalk-white> Vasilisa staggered, feeling a stab of pain and anguish in his chest at the blow from that bony fist.
'That's revolution for you', he thought in his pink, neat head. 'Fine state of affairs.
We should have strung them all up, and now it's too late . . .'
'Put those boots on, Vasilko', the wolf said in a kindly voice to the giant, who sat down on the springy mattress and pulled off his foot-cloths.
The boots would not fit over his thick gray socks. 'Give the cossack a pair of thin socks', the wolf said sternly, turning to Wanda, who at once squatted down to pull out the bottom drawer of the chest-of-drawers and took out a pair of socks.
The giant threw away his thick gray socks showing feet with red toes and black corns, and pulled on the new pair.
The boots went on with difficulty and the laces on the left boot broke with a snap.
Delighted, grinning like a child, the giant tied the frayed ends and stood up.
And immediately it was as if something snapped in the tense relationship between those five ill-assorted people.
They began to act more naturally.