Produced by James Rusk
Translated by CONSTANCE GARNETT
ONE day when she was younger and better-looking, and when her voicewas stronger, Nikolay Petrovitch Kolpakov, her adorer, was sittingin the outer room in her summer villa. It was intolerably hot andstifling. Kolpakov, who had just dined and drunk a whole bottle ofinferior port, felt ill-humoured and out of sorts. Both were boredand waiting for the heat of the day to be over in order to go fora walk.
All at once there was a sudden ring at the door. Kolpakov, who wassitting with his coat off, in his slippers, jumped up and lookedinquiringly at Pasha.
"It must be the postman or one of the girls," said the singer.
Kolpakov did not mind being found by the postman or Pasha's ladyfriends, but by way of precaution gathered up his clothes and wentinto the next room, while Pasha ran to open the door. To her greatsurprise in the doorway stood, not the postman and not a girl friend,but an unknown woman, young and beautiful, who was dressed like alady, and from all outward signs was one.
The stranger was pale and was breathing heavily as though she hadbeen running up a steep flight of stairs.
"What is it?" asked Pasha.
The lady did not at once answer. She took a step forward, slowlylooked about the room, and sat down in a way that suggested thatfrom fatigue, or perhaps illness, she could not stand; then for along time her pale lips quivered as she tried in vain to speak.
"Is my husband here?" she asked at last, raising to Pasha her bigeyes with their red tear-stained lids.
"Husband?" whispered Pasha, and was suddenly so frightened that herhands and feet turned cold. "What husband?" she repeated, beginningto tremble.
"My husband, . . . Nikolay Petrovitch Kolpakov."
"N . . . no, madam. . . . I . . . I don't know any husband."
A minute passed in silence. The stranger several times passed herhandkerchief over her pale lips and held her breath to stop herinward trembling, while Pasha stood before her motionless, like apost, and looked at her with astonishment and terror.
"So you say he is not here?" the lady asked, this time speakingwith a firm voice and smiling oddly.
"I . . . I don't know who it is you are asking