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"Your Excellency had better have a little wine," he whispered. "Eh? What?" exclaimed Sarudine, opening his eyes and shutting them again instantly. In a tone which he thought severe, but which was really piteous, he could just move his swollen lips sufficiently to say: "Bring me the looking-glass." The servant sighed, brought the mirror, and held a candle close to it.
"Good God, gentlemen! what the devil does all this mean?" shouted Sarudine, as he flung down his cards. At this juncture a new comer appeared in the doorway, Sarudine was ashamed of his own vulgar outburst, and of his noisy, drunken guests, with their cards and bottles, for the whole scene suggested a low tavern.
She was going to tell you herself, but, after all, it comes to the same thing." "What!" exclaimed Maria Ivanovna, drawing herself up. "Lida is going to be married!" "To whom?" "To Novikoff, of course." "Yes, but what about Sarudine?" "Oh! he can go to the devil!" exclaimed Sanine angrily. "What's that to do with you? Why meddle with other people's affairs?"
"Yes, you," continued Sanine, affecting not to notice this, "You're the best fellow in the world, or, at any rate, you think you are. Come now, tell me, have you ever met a better?" "Yes, lots of them," replied Sarudine, with some hesitation. He had not the least idea what Sanine meant, nor if he ought to appear amused or annoyed. "Well, name them, please," said Sanine.
So intensely painful did this sensation become, that at last Sarudine almost fainted. He felt as if he were losing his reason, and he longed to die. His brain refused to recognize what had happened. He kept thinking that there was a mistake, some misunderstanding, and that his plight was not as desperate and deplorable as he imagined. Yet the actual fact remained, and ever darker grew his despair.
Into those honest sorrowful eyes, there came a look of animal jealousy and concupiscence. "Oho!" exclaimed Sanine threateningly, as he got up. "Then what I have to tell you is this: Lida has not only fallen in love with Sarudine, but she has also had illicit relations with him, and is now enceinte." There was dead silence in the room. Novikoff smiled a strange, sickly smile and rubbed his hands.
"You fool!" he thought to himself, as much in pity as in anger. "I should like a word with you," began Sarudine, hoarsely. "Did you receive my challenge?" "Yes," replied Sanine, intently watching every movement of the officer's hands. "And you have decided to refuse ... er ... to act as any decent man is bound to act under the circumstances?" asked Sarudine.
Yet Volochine was evidently waiting, and Sarudine felt that he must keep to the desired theme of conversation. "Of course, I know," he began, with an exaggerated air of nonchalance, "I know that to you men-about-town these country wenches are extraordinarily attractive. But you're wrong. They're fresh and plump, it's true, but they've no chic; they don't know how to make love artistically."
"You don't say so?" exclaimed Sarudine, smiling. "Of course they are. There's nothing so boring in all the world as your so-called honest man. What is an honest man? With the programme of honesty and virtue everybody has long been familiar; and so it contains nothing that is new.
"What about?" asked Lida, absently. Sarudine had finished his song and after a pause began to sing again. He thought that he had a voice of extraordinary beauty, and he much liked to hear it. Novikoff felt himself growing red, and then pale. It was as if he were going to faint. "I look here Lidia Petrovna will you be my wife?"
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