. . 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.
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