As he stood, it was impossible for either of the others to see his
face, and he betrayed no agitation by movement or gesture.
Akulina turned pale to the lips, as her husband had anticipated. It is
probable that the most tragic event conceivable in her existence could not
have affected her more powerfully than the twang of the musical box and
the twisting and turning of the insolent little wooden head. She came
round to the front of the counter with gleaming eyes and clenched fists.
"Stop that thing!" she cried, "Stop it, or it will drive me mad."
Fischelowitz still smiled, and the doll continued to turn round and round
to the tune, while the Count looked out through the open door. Suddenly
there was a quick shadow on the brightly lighted floor of the shop,
followed instantly by a crash, and then with a miserable attempt to finish
its tune the little instrument gave a resounding groan and was silent.
Akulina had struck the Gigerl such a blow as had sent it flying, pedestal
and all, past her husband's head into a dark corner behind the counter.
Fischelowitz reddened with anger, and Akulina stood ready to take to
flight, glad that the broad counter was between herself and her husband.
Her fury had spent itself in one blow and she would have given anything to
set the doll up in its place again unharmed. She realised at the same
instant that she had probably destroyed any intrinsic value which the
thing had possessed, and her face fell wofully. The Count turned slowly
where he stood and looked at the couple.
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