window. My little child would have frozen to death. When I started out, it was warm, but now it is terribly cold. And he, Bátiushka, led you to look through the window, and take pity on me, an unfortunate.”
Avdyéitch smiled, and said, “Indeed, he did that! I have been looking through the window, my good woman, not without cause.” And Martuin told the soldier’s wife his dream, and how he heard the voice—how the Lord promised to come and see him that day.
“All things are possible,” said the woman. She rose, put on the coat, wrapped up her little child in it; and as she started to take leave, she thanked Avdyéitch again.
“Take this, for Christ’s sake,” said Avdyéitch, giving her a twenty-kopek piece: “redeem your shawl.” She made the sign of the cross. Avdyéitch made the sign of the cross, and went with her to the door.
The woman left. Avdyéitch ate some shchi, washed some dishes, and sat down again to work. While he works he still remembers the window: when the window grew darker, he immediately looked out to see who was passing by. Both acquaintances and strangers passed by, and there was nothing out of the ordinary.
But here Avdyéitch sees that an old apple-woman has stopped right in front of his window. She carries a basket with apples. Only a few were left, as she had nearly sold them all out; and over her shoulder she had a bag full of chips. She must have gathered them up in some new building, and was on her way home. One could see that the bag was heavy on her shoulder: she wanted to shift it to the other shoulder. So she lowered the bag upon the sidewalk, stood the basket with the apples on a little post, and began to shake down the splinters in the bag. And while she was shaking
