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ArtistThe saleswoman, a rather serious-looking woman, her whole weight on the counter with her hands embedded in her sides, is arguing with Nikita, the church attendant, shouting: - "I'm sick of you and the priest with your bills! I won't take your torn three! Stick it up your arses with Yerofei, tear it into two even halves, roll it up into a tube, and shove it up your arse and his in turn. When Matrona looked, she saw her green treasury note with a torn-off edge and an inscription on it. And in a frenzy she said: "That's my three-card bill, I donated it for the building of the temple, for the glory of God. And the saleswoman in response did not stop: - Here's another mistress of untold riches, and you take this lousy three-dollar. I said I wouldn't take it.