For a long time they were left alone, but neither of them seemed to wonder at it, nor to hear the low, excited tones of many voices talking rapidly and often together in the shop outside.

Whenever their eyes met, they both smiled, while their fingers did the accustomed mechanical work.
When Schmidt entered the outer shop for the second time, he found the tobacconist and his wife conversing in low tones together, in evident fear of being overheard.

He came and stood before them, lowering his voice to the pitch of theirs, as he spoke.
"It is no fault of yours that the Count was not found dead in his bed this morning," he began, fixing his fiery eyes on Akulina.
"What?
What?
What is this ?" asked Fischelowitz excitedly.
"Only this," said the Cossack, displaying the letter he had brought from the Count's rooms.

"Nothing more.

Your wife has succeeded very well.