Short Stories
Twice in his fury the young man turned on his heel with a contemptuous wave
of his hand.
"Oh, I meant nothing, I assure you. As an honourable man I will tell you
all about it. At first my wife used to come here alone. They are relatives
of hers; I had no suspicions; yesterday I met his Excellency: he told me
that he had moved three weeks ago from here to another flat, and my wi ...
that is, not mine, but somebody else's (the husband's on the Voznesensky
Bridge) ... that lady had told me that she was with them the day before
yesterday, in this flat I mean ... and the cook told me that his
Excellency's flat had been taken by a young man called Bobynitsyn...."
"Oh, damn it all, damn it all!..."
"My dear sir, I am in terror, I am in alarm!"
"Oh, hang it! What is it to me that you are in terror and in alarm? Ah!
Over there ... some one flitted by ... over there...."
"Where, where? You just shout, 'Ivan Andreyitch,' and I will run...."
"All right, all right. Oh, confound it! Ivan Andreyitch!"
"Here I am," cried Ivan Andreyitch, returning, utterly breathless. "What is
it, what is it? Where?"
"Oh, no, I didn't mean anything ... I wanted to know what this lady's name
is."
"Glaf...."
"Glafira?"
"No, not Glafira.... Excuse me, I cannot tell you her name."
As he said this the worthy man was as white as a sheet.
"Oh, of course it is not Glafira, I know it is not Glafira, and mine's not
Glafira; but with whom can she be?"
"Where?"
"There! Oh, damn it, damn it!" (The young man was in such a fury that he
could not stand still.)
"There, you see! How did you know that her name was Glafira?"
"Oh, damn it all, really! To have a bother with you, too! Why, you
say--that yours is not called Glafira!..."
"My dear sir, what a way to speak!"
"Oh, the devil! As though that mattered now! What is she? Your wife?"
"No--that is, I am not married.... But I would not keep flinging the devil
at a respectable man in trouble, a man, I will not say worthy of esteem,
but at any rate a man of education. You keep saying, 'The devil, the
devil!'"
"To be sure, the devil take it; so there you are, do you understand?"
"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, damnation
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, damnation 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
raccoon 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 raccoon 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 assure 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 raccoon rummaged in a fluster.
"Tfoo, what a senseless ... damnation! I believe this is the door...."
"This, this, this?"
"This, this, this... Why are you bawling? Hush!..."
"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 brass plate. This is Bobynitsyn's; do you see
Bobynitsyn?"
"I see it, I see it."
"Hu-ush!"
"Why, has it gone out?"
"Yes, it has."
"Should we knock?"
"Yes, we must," responded the gentleman in raccoon.
"Knock, then."
"No, why should I? You begin, you knock!"
"Coward!"
"You are a coward yourself!"
"G-et a-way with you!"
"I almost regret having confided my secret to you; you...."
"I--what about me?"
"You take advantage of my distress; you see that I am upset...."
"But do I care? I think it's ridiculous, that's all about it!"
"Why are you here?"
"Why are you here, too?..."
"Delightful morality!" observed the gentleman in raccoon, with indignation.
"What are you saying about morality? What are you?"
"Well, it's immoral!"
"What?..."
"Why, to your thinking, every deceived husband is a noodle!"
"Why, are you the husband? I thought the husband was on Voznesensky
Bridge? So what is it to you? Why do you meddle?"
"I do believe that you are the lover!..."
"Listen: if you go on like this I shall be forced to think you are a
noodle! That is, do you know who?"
"That is, you mean to say that I am the husband," said the gentleman in
raccoon, stepping back as though he were scalded with boiling water.
"Hush, hold your tongue. Do you hear?..."
"It is she."
"No!"
"Tfoo, how dark it is!"
There was a hush; a sound was audible in Bobynitsyn's flat.
"Why should we quarrel, sir?" whispered the gentleman in raccoon.
"But you took offence yourself, damn it all!"
"But you drove me out of all patience."
"Hold your tongue!"
"You must admit that you are a very young man."
"Hold your tongue!"
"Of course I share your idea, that a husband in such a position is a
noodle."
"Oh, will you hold your tongue? Oh!..."
"But why such savage persecution of the unfortunate husband?..."
"It is she!"
But at that moment the sound ceased.
"Is it she?"
"It is, it is, it is! But why are you--you worrying about it? It is not
your trouble!"
"My dear sir, my dear sir," muttered the gentleman in raccoon, turning
pale and gulping, "I am, of course, greatly agitated ... you can see for
yourself my abject position; but now it's night, of course, but
to-morrow ... though indeed we are not likely to meet to-morrow, though
I am not afraid of meeting you--and besides, it is not I, it is my
friend on the Voznesensky Bridge, it really is he! It is his wife, it is
somebody else's wife. Poor fellow! I assure you, I know him very
intimately; if you will allow me I will tell you all about it. I am a
great friend of his, as you can see for yourself, or I shouldn't be in
such a state about him now--as you see for yourself. Several times I
said to him: 'Why are you getting married, dear boy? You have position,
you have means, you are highly respected. Why risk it all at the caprice
of coquetry? You must see that.' 'No, I am going to be married,' he
said; 'domestic bliss.'... Here's domestic bliss for you! In old days he
deceived other husbands ... now he is drinking the cup ... you must
excuse me, but this explanation was absolutely necessary.... He is an
unfortunate man, and is drinking the cup--now!..." At this point the
gentleman in raccoon gave such a gulp that he seemed to be sobbing in
earnest.
"Ah, damnation take them all! There are plenty of fools. But who are you?"
The young man ground his teeth in anger.
"Well, you must admit after this that I have been gentlemanly and open with
you ... and you take such a tone!"
"No, excuse me ... what is your name?"
"Why do you want to know my name?..."
"Ah!"
"I cannot tell you my name...."
"Do you know Shabrin?" the young man said quickly.
"Shabrin!!!"
"Yes, Shabrin! Ah!!!" (Saying this, the gentleman in the wadded overcoat
mimicked the gentleman in raccoon.) "Do you understand?"
"No, what Shabrin?" answered the gentleman in raccoon, in a fluster. "He's
not Shabrin; he is a very respectable man! I can excuse your discourtesy,
due to the tortures of jealousy."
"He's a scoundrel, a mercenary soul, a rogue that takes bribes, he steals
government money! He'll be had up for it before long!"
"Excuse me," said the gentleman in raccoon, turning pale, "you don't know
him; I see that you don't know him at all."
"No, I don't know him personally, but I know him from others who are in
close touch with him."
"From what others, sir? I am agitated, as you see...."
"A fool! A jealous idiot! He doesn't look after his wife! That's what he
is, if you like to know!"
"Excuse me, young man, you are grievously mistaken...."
"Oh!"
"Oh!"
A sound was heard in Bobynitsyn's flat. A door was opened, voices were
heard.
"Oh, that's not she! I recognise her voice; I understand it all now, this
is not she!" said the gentleman in raccoon, turning as white as a sheet.
"Hush!"
The young man leaned against the wall.
"My dear sir, I am off. It is not she, I am glad to say."
"All right! Be off, then!"
"Why are you staying, then?"
"What's that to you?"
The door opened, and the gentleman in raccoon could not refrain from
dashing headlong downstairs.
A man and a woman walked by the young man, and his heart stood still.... He
heard a familiar feminine voice and then a husky male voice, utterly
unfamiliar.
"Never mind, I will order the sledge," said the husky voice.
"Oh, yes, yes; very well, do...."
"It will be here directly."
The lady was left alone.
"Glafira! Where are your vows?" cried the young man in the wadded overcoat,
clutching the lady's arm.
"Oh, who is it? It's you, Tvorogov? My goodness! What are you doing here?"
"Who is it you have been with here?"
"Why, my husband. Go away, go away; he'll be coming out directly ...
from ... in there ... from the Polovitsyns'. Go away; for goodness'
sake, go away."
"It's three weeks since the Polovitsyns moved! I know all about it!"