He said in a thick, loud voice: "Good evening, Nilovna." She dressed herself, all the while speaking to herself in a low voice, so as to give herself courage: "What sort of a thing is this?
They come at night.

People are asleep and they come----" The room was close, and for some reason smelled strongly of shoe blacking.

Two gendarmes and the village police commissioner, Ryskin, their heavy tread resounding on the floor, removed the books from the shelves and put them on the table before the officer.

Two others rapped on the walls with their fists, and looked under the chairs.

One man clumsily clambered up on the stove in the corner.