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Involuntarily I recalled to mind a certain lady, living in Moscow, who used to maintain that Byron was nothing more nor less than a drunkard. However, the staff-captain's observation was more excusable; in order to abstain from strong drink, he naturally endeavoured to convince himself that all the misfortunes in the world are the result of drunkenness.
Before the gate a wide square spread out; behind it the bazaar was seething with people, the day being Sunday. Barefooted Ossete boys, carrying wallets of honeycomb on their shoulders, were hovering around me. I cursed them; I had other things to think of I was beginning to share the worthy staff-captain's uneasiness.
I was now billeted for two days in a house in Arras, where the Brigade Staff-Captain's office was located. The first night was quiet enough, but the following night was not so pleasant. For our heavy guns were now bombarding the German positions and their long-range guns threw a lot of shells in reply into various parts of the city. On April 23, St.
However, the girls realized that there had been a strenuous attempt to do honor to them and they sat down on the coffee kegs that had been provided en lieu of chairs with smiling appreciation. The Staff-Captain's anxiety began to relax as he noticed the quiet respectful attitude of the men when they passed by the doorway and looked eagerly over at the corner where the girls were sitting.
I confess that I also was awaiting this Pechorin's appearance with a certain amount of impatience although, from the staff-captain's story, I had formed a by no means favourable idea of him. Still, certain traits in his character struck me as remarkable. In an hour's time one of the old soldiers brought a steaming samovar and a teapot. "Won't you have some tea, Maksim Maksimych?"
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