The Petty Demon by Fyodor Sologub Page B

and laughter. Darya put on
     a sullenly expectant face and said:
    “This is the way he’s standing at the gate.”
    It was an amusingly good imitation.
    The young ladies started to peek out the window in the direction of the gate. Darya opened the window slightly and shouted:
    “Ardalyon Borisych, may we talk through the window?”
    A sullen voice was heard:
    “You may not.”
    Darya hastily banged the window shut. The sisters burst into peals of unrestrained laughter and ran out of the living room
     into the dining room so that Peredonov would not hear. In this happy family they were capable of switching from the most angry
     mood to laughter and jokes, and most frequently it was a happy word that settled the matter.
    Peredonov stood and waited. He felt sad and frightened. He was thinking about running away but he couldn’t bring himself to
     decide to do even that. The sound of music was borne hither from somewhere far away: it must have been the daughter of the
     marshal of the nobility playing on the piano. The faint tender sounds wafted through the soft dark air of evening and induced
     sorrow and aroused sweet dreams.
    At first Peredonov’s dreams took an erotic direction.
    He imagined the young Rutilov ladies in the most seductive situations. But the longer the waiting went on the greater Peredonov’s
     irritation in wondering why they were keeping him waiting. And no sooner had the music affected his deathly vulgar emotions
     than it died away.
    Meanwhile, night, soft, rustling with ominous whispering sounds and people approaching, descended all around. And it seemed
     all the more darkeverywhere because Peredonov was standing in the space which was illuminated by the living room lamp whose light settled in
     two strips on the yard and widened as it reached out towards the neighboring fence behind which dark log walls were visible.
     The trees from the Rutilov garden were growing suspiciously dark and whispering about something in the depths of the yard.
     Someone’s slow deliberate steps could be heard for a long while on the boardwalk in the streets. Peredonov began to fear that
     while he was standing there someone would attack and rob him, or even kill him. He pressed right up against the wall, into
     the shadows, so that he could not be seen, and there he waited timidly.
    But then long shadows flitted through the strips of light in the yard, doors started to bang and voices were heard behind
     the door to the porch. Peredonov perked up. “They’re coming!” he thought joyfully and the pleasant dreams about the lovely
     sisters began to stir lazily once more in his head—the vile offspring of his pathetic imagination.
    The sisters were standing in the entry way. Rutilov came out into the yard towards the gate and looked around to see whether
     anyone was on the street.
    There was no one to be seen or heard.
    “There’s no one,” he said in a loud whisper through his cupped hands to the sisters.
    He stayed outside to keep watch on the street. Peredonov followed him out on to the street.
    “Well, they’re going to tell you now,” Rutilov said.
    Peredonov stood right by the gate and peered through the crack between the gate and the gate post. His face was sullen and
     almost frightened. All dreams and thoughts were extinguished in his head and were replaced by a vague, ponderous lust.
    Darya was the first to come up to the partially open gate.
    “Well, what would you like me to do to please you?” she asked.
    Peredonov was sullenly silent. Darya said:
    “I’ll bake you the tastiest
bliny
, hot ones, only don’t choke on them.”
    From behind her shoulder Lyudmila shouted:
    “And every morning I’ll go around the town and gather up all the gossip and then tell you. It’ll be very amusing.”
    The capricious and slender face of little Valeriya appeared for an instant between the cheerful faces of the two sisters and
     her fragile voice said:
    “And nothing will make me tell you how I’ll