son for yourself.' What an argument! Well, I gave him enough to
last till the first of the month! Oho-ho! Now he doesn't want to
speak with me. Well, I'll show him yet!"

"Ah, you don't have to tell us," sighs Anna Markovna, letting her
lower, raspberry-coloured lip hang down and with a mist coming
over her faded eyes. "We keep our Birdie--she is in Fleisher's
high school--we purposely keep her in town, in a respectable
family. You. understand, it is awkward, after all. And all of a
sudden she brings such words and expressions from the high school
that I just simply turned all red."

"Honest to God, Annochka turned all red," confirms Isaiah Savvich.

"You'll turn red, all right!" warmly agrees the inspector. "Yes,
yes, yes, I understand you fully. But, my God, where are we going!
Where are we only going? I ask you, what are these revolutionaries
and all these various students, or... what-you-may-call-'ems? ...
trying to attain? And let them put the blame on none but
themselves. Corruption is everywhere, morality is falling, there
is no respect for parents. They ought to be shot."

"Well, now, the day before yesterday we had a case," Zociya mixes
in bustlingly. "A certain guest came, a stout man..."

"Drop it!" Emma Edwardovna, who was listening to the inspector,
piously nodding with her head bowed to one side, cuts her short in
the jargon of the brothels. "You'd better go and see about
breakfast for the young ladies."