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When the general's steps had died away Andrey Hrisanfitch looked at the post that had come, and found one addressed to himself. He tore it open, read several lines, then, looking at the newspaper, he walked without haste to his own room, which was downstairs close by at the end of the passage.
Andrey Hrisanfitch lighted a cigarette, but at that very moment there was a ring from upstairs. He put out his cigarette, and, assuming a very grave face, hastened to his front door. The general was coming downstairs, fresh and rosy from his bath. "And what is there in that room?" he asked, pointing to a door.
Andrey Hrisanfitch returned to his room to smoke a little till there was another ring at the door, and Yefimya ceased speaking, subsided, and wiped her eyes, though her lips were still quivering. She was very much frightened of him oh, how frightened of him! She trembled and was reduced to terror by the sound of his steps, by the look in his eyes, and dared not utter a word in his presence.
B. O. Mozelweiser's hydropathic establishment worked on New Year's Day exactly as on ordinary days; the only difference was that the porter, Andrey Hrisanfitch, had on a uniform with new braiding, his boots had an extra polish, and he greeted every visitor with "A Happy New Year to you!" It was the morning; Andrey Hrisanfitch was standing at the door, reading the newspaper.
"What?" asked Vasilisa, looking at him angrily and suspiciously. "Don't worry me! You are not writing for nothing; no fear, you'll be paid for it. Come, write: 'To our dear son-in-law, Andrey Hrisanfitch, and to our only beloved daughter, Yefimya Petrovna, with our love we send a low bow and our parental blessing abiding for ever." "Written; fire away."
Andrey Hrisanfitch put his hands down swiftly to the seams of his trousers, and pronounced loudly: "Charcot douche, your Excellency!" IT was getting dark; it would soon be night. Gusev, a discharged soldier, sat up in his hammock and said in an undertone: "I say, Pavel Ivanitch.
Just at ten o'clock there arrived a general, one of the habitual visitors, and directly after him the postman; Andrey Hrisanfitch helped the general off with his great-coat, and said: "A Happy New Year to your Excellency!" "Thank you, my good fellow; the same to you." "The massage room, your Excellency."
Andrey Hrisanfitch, hearing this, recalled that his wife had on three or four occasions given him letters and asked him to send them to the country, but some important business had always prevented him; he had not sent them, and the letters somehow got lost. "And little hares run about in the fields," Yefimya went on chanting, kissing her boy and shedding tears.
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