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 of my village. . . (Fetching from her compartment a brown dress.) When I go walking on Marshalkovski street in this dress they all stare at me. . . Fire and flame! Mm! If I could only put in an appearance in my home town dressed in this fashion, here's how I 'd promenade to the station. (Struts across the room like a lady of fashion, raising her skirt at the back and assuming a cosmopolitan air.) They'd die of jealousy, I tell you. . . They'd be stricken with apoplexy on the spot. (Promenades about the room playing the grand dame.)

That's the way! Now raise your head a bit higher. . . Who needs to know that you were ever in a place of this sort? You'll tell them that you were with a big business house. A Count has fallen in love with you. ..

And what's the matter with a place of this sort, I'd like to know? Aren't we every bit as good as the girls in the business houses, eh? The whole world is like that nowadays; that's what the world demands. In these days even the daughters of the best families aren't any better. This is our way of earning a living. And believe me, when one of us gets married,