"I think it's Yegor." It was Yegor, wet and out of breath.
"Aha! The samovar!" he cried.

"That's the best thing in life, granny! You here already, Sashenka ?" His hoarse voice filled the little kitchen.

He slowly removed his heavy ulster, talking all the time.
"Here, granny, is a girl who is a thorn in the flesh of the police! Insulted by the overseer of the prison, she declared that she would starve herself to death if he did not ask her pardon.

And for eight days she went without eating, and came within a hair's breadth of dying.

It's not bad! She must have a mighty strong little stomach." "Is it possible you took no food for eight days in succession ?" asked the mother in amazement.
"I had to get him to beg my pardon," answered the girl with a stoical shrug of her shoulders.