The Petty Demon by Fyodor Sologub Page A

even thinking of it, enough of this tomfoolery.”
    “We aren’t going anywhere,” Peredonov confirmed. “We like it here just fine.”
    The landlady wasn’t listening, she stepped up to a dumbfounded Varvara and shook her fists in her face. Peredonov was standing
     behind Varvara. He would have run away but he was curious to see how the landlady and Varvara would lay into each other.
    “I’ll stand you on one foot, yank on the other and tear you in half!” Ershova screamed fiercely.
    “Come now, Irina Stepanovna,” Varvara tried to convince her. “Stop, we have guests.”
    “Let’s have your guests here too!” Ershova shouted. “What do I care about your guests anyway!”
    Stumbling, Ershova plunged into the living room and suddenly changing both her speech and her entire behavior completely,
     mildly addressed Prepolovenskaya as she gave her a deep bow and almost collapsed onto the floor:
    “My dear madam, Sofiya Efimovna, forgive me, drunken woman that I am. Only listen to what I’m going to tell you. Here you
     are coming to visit them and do you know what she says about your cousin? And to whom? To me, the drunken wife of a shoemaker!
     Why? So I’ll tell everyone, that’s why?”
    Varvara turned a deep crimson and said:
    “I never said anything to you.”
    “You didn’t? You, a foul libertine?” Ershova started to shout, stepping up to Varvara with clenched fists.
    “Quiet down,” Varvara muttered with embarrassment.
    “No I won’t,” Ershova screamed maliciously and turned to Prepolovenskaya once more. “She told me, the vile woman did, that
     your cousin is apparently carrying on with your husband.”
    Sofiya flashed an angry and cunning glance at Varvara, stood up and said with feigned laughter:
    “I thank you most humbly I never expected that.”
    “You’re lying!” Varvara shrieked spitefully at Ershova.
    Ershova gave an angry boot, stomped her feet and shook her hand at Varvara and immediately turned to Prepolovenskaya once
     more:
    “And the things, dear lady, that the gentleman says about you! That apparentlyearlier you used to gad about and only got married afterwards! That’s the kind they are, the vilest of people! Spit in their
     mugs, my good madam, don’t have anything to do with these kind of utterly disgusting people.”
    Prepolovenskaya blushed and silently went out into the front hall. Peredonov ran after her trying to make excuses.
    “She’s lying, don’t you believe her. Only once in her presence did I say that you were a fool and that was only out of anger
     and, by God, I never said anything more. She’s making it up herself.”
    Prepolovenskaya replied calmly:
    “Come now, Ardalyon Borisych! I can see that she’s drunk and she herself doesn’t know what she’s spouting on about. Only why
     do you allow all this to go on in your home?”
    “Just try to imagine,” replied Peredonov, “what can you do with her!”
    Angry and embarrassed, Prepolovenskaya put on her jacket. Peredonov didn’t think to help her. He muttered a few things more
     but she was no longer listening to him. Then Peredonov returned to the living room. Ershova started to reproach him noisily.
     Varvara ran out on the porch and tried to console Prepolovenskaya:
    “You know what a fool he is, he doesn’t know himself what to say.”
    “Enough of your worrying,” Prepolovenskaya replied to her. “A drunken old woman will say all sorts of things.”
    Outside, around the house where the porch fronted, stinging nettles grew thick and high. Prepolovenskaya smiled slightly and
     the final shadow of displeasure disappeared from her white and plump face. Once more she grew friendly and amiable with Varvara.
     The insult would be avenged without any quarrel. They walked together into the garden to wait out the landlady’s onslaught.
    Prepolovenskaya kept looking at the nettles that grew along the fences in abundance. She finally said:
    “You have a lot of nettles. Do you need them