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Sanin did not doubt for a single second that his presence in 'Prince Polozov's' drawing-room was a fact perfectly well known to its mistress; the whole point of her entry had been the display of her hair, which was certainly beautiful.

We're starting the day after to-morrow. Let me pour you out a glass of wine; it's wine with a bouquet no vinegary stuff. Polozov's face was flushed and animated; it was never animated but when he was eating or drinking. 'Really, I don't know, how that could be managed, Sanin muttered. 'But what makes you in such a hurry about it all of a sudden?

'You mean at lunch? 'Yes. 'Delighted, it's much pleasanter to eat in company. You're not a great talker, are you? 'I think not. 'So much the better. Polozov went on. Sanin walked beside him. And Sanin speculated Polozov's lips were glued together, again he snorted heavily, and waddled along in silence Sanin speculated in what way had this booby succeeded in catching a rich and beautiful wife.

Ippolit Sidorovitch! Is it you? The figure stopped, raised his diminutive eyes, waited a little, and ungluing his lips at last, brought out in a rather hoarse falsetto, 'Dimitri Sanin? 'That's me! cried Sanin, and he shook one of Polozov's hands; arrayed in tight kid-gloves of an ashen-grey colour, they hung as lifeless as before beside his barrel-shaped legs. 'Have you been here long?