Short Stories Part 15

"You are blinded by anger, and I say nothing. Oh, dear, who is that?"

"Where?"

There was a noise and a sound of laughter; two pretty girls ran down the steps; both the men rushed up to them.

"Oh, what manners! What do you want?"

"Where are you shoving?"

"They are not the right ones!"

"Aha, so you've pitched on the wrong ones! Cab!"

"Where do you want to go, mademoiselle?"

"To Pokrov. Get in, Annushka; I'll take you."

"Oh, I'll sit on the other side; off! Now, mind you drive quickly."

The cab drove off.

"Where did they come from?"

"Oh, dear, oh, dear! Hadn't we better go there?"

"Where?"

"Why, to Bobynitsyn's...."

"No, that's out of the question."

"Why?"

"I would go there, of course, but then she would tell me some other story; she would ... get out of it. She would say that she had come on purpose to catch me with some one, and I should get into trouble."

"And, you know, she may be there! But you--I don't know for what reason--why, you might go to the general's...."

"But, you know, he has moved!"

"That doesn't matter, you know. She has gone there; so you go, too--don't you understand? Behave as though you didn't know the general had gone away.

Go as though you had come to fetch your wife, and so on."

"And then?"

"Well, and then find the person you want at Bobynitsyn's. Tfoo, d.a.m.nation take you, what a senseless...."

"Well, and what is it to you, my finding? You see, you see!"

"What, what, my good man? What? You are on the same old tack again. Oh, Lord have mercy on us! You ought to be ashamed, you absurd person, you senseless person!"

"Yes, but why are you so interested? Do you want to find out...."

"Find out what? What? Oh, well, d.a.m.nation take you! I have no thoughts for you now; I'll go alone. Go away; get along; look out; be off!"

"My dear sir, you are almost forgetting yourself!" cried the gentleman in racc.o.o.n in despair.

"Well, what of it? What if I am forgetting myself?" said the young man, setting his teeth and stepping up to the gentleman in racc.o.o.n in a fury.

"What of it? Forgetting myself before whom?" he thundered, clenching his fists.

"But allow me, sir...."

"Well, who are you, before whom I am forgetting myself? What is your name?"

"I don't know about that, young man; why do you want my name?... I cannot tell it you.... I better come with you. Let us go; I won't hang back; I am ready for anything.... But I a.s.sure you I deserve greater politeness and respect! You ought never to lose your self-possession, and if you are upset about something--I can guess what about--at any rate there is no need to forget yourself.... You are still a very, very young man!..."

"What is it to me that you are old? There's nothing wonderful in that! Go away. Why are you dancing about here?"

"How am I old? Of course, in position; but I am not dancing about...."

"I can see that. But get away with you."

"No, I'll stay with you; you cannot forbid me; I am mixed up in it, too; I will come with you...."

"Well, then, keep quiet, keep quiet, hold your tongue...."

They both went up the steps and ascended the stairs to the third storey. It was rather dark.

"Stay; have you got matches?"

"Matches! What matches?"

"Do you smoke cigars?"

"Oh, yes, I have, I have; here they are, here they are; here, stay...." The gentleman in racc.o.o.n rummaged in a fl.u.s.ter.

"Tfoo, what a senseless ... d.a.m.nation! I believe this is the door...."

"This, this, this?"

"This, this, this... Why are you bawling? Hus.h.!.+..."

"My dear sir, overcoming my feelings, I ... you are a reckless fellow, so there!..."

The light flared up.

"Yes, so it is; here is the bra.s.s plate. This is Bobynitsyn's; do you see Bobynitsyn?"

"I see it, I see it."