It seemed to us that we were playing a
game with the devil, with Tanya as the stake on our side. And when
we had learned from the _bulochniks_ that the soldier began to court
"our Tanya," we felt so dreadfully good and were so absorbed in our
curiosity that we did not even notice that the proprietor, availing
himself of our excitement, added to our work fourteen _poods_ (a
_pood_ is a weight of forty Russian pounds) of dough a day. We did
not even get tired of working. Tanya's name did not leave our lips
all day long. And each morning we expected her with especial
impatience. Sometimes we imagined that she might come to us--and
that she would be no longer the same Tanya, but another one.
However, we told her nothing about the dispute. We asked her no
questions and treated her as kindly as before. But something new and
foreign to our former feelings for Tanya crept in stealthily into our
relation toward her, and this new _something_ was keen curiosity,
sharp and cold like a steel knife.
"Fellows! Time is up to-day!" said the baker one morning, commencing
to work.
We knew this well without his calling our attention to it, but we
gave a start, nevertheless.
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