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That was about all the feeling she got out of it, because he had big, red hands, was awkward and shy and did not even dare to kiss her.

When she embraced him once, he got so terrified that he avoided her for days and then lectured her to the effect that only man and wife, being duly married, could kiss each other. Had he only known what her occupation was and what her life had been so far! Grushenka felt curiously happy. She had forgotten her fear of being detected by Madame Sophia. She had saved up a little money, tied in a kerchief.

She bought fine material and made herself dresses and coats and skirts. She was on good footing with the other girls-nothing was lacking. But one evening, the following occurred: As usual she lay across her bed and Mr. Brenna had his good love instrument in the right place and both were working away at their best when the door opened and Madame Brenna entered. She watched the scene for a moment without their having heard or seen her. Then she rushed forward, yelling and screaming and began to beat her unfaithful husband's huge back with her bare fists. Of course Brenna let Grushenka go and turned around, his big rod sticking out accusingly. But the thin little Madame Brenna had not done with him yet. Yellow with rage, she showered him with blows, biting his hands, which he held out against her to shield himself, scratching his face and tearing his clothes.

He could have knocked her down with a single stroke of his powerful arms, but he was so scared and in awe before his rightful wife that he took it all without protest. Finally she pushed him out of the door, lacking him down the stairs, all the while letting him know that she would not stand for his giving another woman what was coming to her. After she had gone, Grushenka remained in a daze on her bed. What would be her fate now? Would that woman kill her?

Would she beat her mercilessly? Would Grushenka again be set adrift?

She wondered and did not dare to dress to go down to dinner.

Finally she heard steps at her door and, when she sat up in bed, Madame Brenna came in. She was very calm now and almost friendly.

“It was not your fault,” began Madame Brenna. “What could you do?

You had to poke him. I understand that. When his father gave me a job here some twenty years ago and the son started to poke me, I couldn't object either. Then he married me. That big brute! But never let it happen again. Will you promise me that? Swear it to me!”-and Grushenka swore it. “All right then, and if he tries again, you run away and come right downstairs. I'll fix him up. Understand? You'll not work for him again downstairs. You start tomorrow in the woman's department-and keep away from him or next time I'll break every bone in your body!” And making a gesture showing that she would tear her to pieces, Madame left the room with resolute steps. She had more energy, thin and small as she was, then Grushenka had expected.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Grushenka was somewhat downcast with this verdict. It would have been better if she had received a good beating and had stayed in the men's department. First of all, she liked men and not women; secondly, Madame Brenna was quite severe with her girls. She had mostly serf girls working for her and their backs, buttocks and thighs often showed signs of harsh treatment. What should Grushenka do-quit? Then what? She gave in and reported at the women's department the next noon. The equipment of this bathing hall was almost the same as that downstairs, except that on the floor and in the cabinets were some runners and rugs. Madame Brenna sat behind an elevated desk where she sold tea and cakes instead of beer and vodka. But she did not stay behind her bar as her husband always did. No, she ran about all the time, seeing to it that cabinets were cleaned after a customer left, chatting and gossiping with the women in the tubs and ceaselessly admonishing the girls to keep busy. With her commanding words usually went a pinch on the arm or on the buttocks. The girls lined up at the door when a customer came in. Each tried to get as many as possible because of the tips. The customers were the same kind as the men, middle class women of all ages. Many came only for a hot bath because there were no bathing accommodations in the houses of the middle class of that time.

Some wanted a massage and a rest, and many of them, not having any serfs at home, wanted something more. But all of them used the attendant bath girls as their private property, as serfs, rented for a time and on whom they could let their fancy go as it would.

Grushenka realized this with her first customer. This patroness was a young girl whose father had recently made some money with a pottery business. While this father refused to allow his family an elegant household with servants and the luxury of the upper class, there was enough cash available for his daughter to behave like a thorough snob when she was outside her four walls. She was decked out in a cloak with golden threads woven into it, her shoes had big silver buckles and she looked like a real lady. When she came in she eyed the ten girls who stood there naked and smiling. She took her lorgnette and slowly and carefully looked them over. Grushenka felt a chill when the eyes of this young girl wandered from her breasts down to her belly and then down her legs. She was not so happy when she was selected. She did not know why, because this young girl had a harmless and friendly face, though around her mouth were lines of haughtiness and disgust. Grushenka led her customer to a cabinet, closed the door and began devotedly to undress her. The girl stood perfectly still and did not make a move, not even opening a ribbon or slipping out of a single garment. Grushenka found it best to admire loudly all of her wearing apparel although the only answer with which she was met was that it was very costly and that Grushenka should lay each piece out or hang it up with great care. The girl demanded her hair undone and braided, so that it should not get wet. Meanwhile, she sat before the mirror studying her face and her decidedly good figure. After her hair was done, Grushenka asked whether she desired a massage and which way she wanted it. Instead of an answer, the girl turned around and began to study Grushenka's form and features. She became jealous of Grushenka's full and even breasts, her subtle waist, her straight belly and her good legs. Of a sudden, she put a finger into Grushenka's love-nest, shoved it all the way in and, drawing her nearer, asked: “All the men are crazy about you-aren't they?”

“Oh, no!” answered Grushenka instinctively. “Oh, no. Men usually don't like me.” “Not much, you liar,” sneered the fair patroness, and, letting her finger slip out of its lodging place, she gave her a resounding slap in the thigh. Grushenka drew back, holding her smarting thigh with her hands and groaning: “Oh, oh, please don't do that!” “Why not? Why shouldn't I give you a sound spanking if I like to?” retorted the girl with a sneer. “Didn't I hire you for my pleasure? Since when can I not do with Madame Brenna's girls what I like? Shall I call her in and ask her?” “Please don't call Madame Brenna,” answered Grushenka timidly. “I'll do everything you want me to- but please don't hurt me. You don't need to pay me if you don't want to,” she added. “We'll see about that, you little serf-girl,” replied the customer. “Now come here and turn around and bend over-yes, so-that's right. And don't dare move away or I'll teach you!” With that remark, she began to pinch Grushenka's bottom.