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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Truly, Ivan Andreievitch," he said, "you are a fine host. This is a miserable greeting." "There can be no greetings between us ever again," I answered him. "You are a blackguard. I hope that this is our last meeting." "But it is," he answered, looking at me with friendliness; "that is precisely why I've come. I've come to say good-bye." "Good-bye?" I repeated with astonishment.
She's changed, she's harder, more careless, more selfish. You know, Ivan Andreievitch, that Nina's simply everything to me. I don't talk about myself, do I? but at least I can say that since oh, many, many years, she's been the whole world and more than the whole world to me.
It was written on flimsy grey paper in pencil, which made it difficult to read. There were sentences unfinished, words misspelt, and the whole of it in the worst of Russian handwritings. Certain passages, I am, even now, quite unable to interpret: It ran as follows: Dear Ivan Andreievitch Vera tells me that you are ill again. She has been round to enquire, I think.
It is, that you shouldn't for your own amusement simply go in and spoil the lives of some of my friends for nothing at all except your own stupid pride. If that's your plan I'm going to prevent it." "Why, Ivan Andreievitch," he cried, laughing, "this is a challenge." "You can take it as what you please," I answered gravely.
I tell you, Ivan Andreievitch of the noble character, that the human race is rotten; that it is composed of selfishness, vice, and meanness; that it is hypocritical beyond the bounds of hypocrisy, and that of all mean cowardly nations on this earth the Russian nation is the meanest and most cowardly!... That fine talk of ours that you English slobber over! a mere excuse for idleness, and you'll know it before another year is through.
He was leaning forward on the table, resting his head on his hands and looking gravely at me. "What I can't understand, Ivan Andreievitch," he said, "is why you're always getting in my way. You did so in Galicia, and now here you are again. It is not as though you were strong or wise no, it is because you are persistent.
"Going away from where?" he asked, laughing. "From the Markovitches, from all of us, from Petrograd?" "Yes I've told you already," he answered. "I've come to say good-bye." "Then what did you mean by telling Vera " "Never you mind, Ivan Andreievitch. Don't worry your poor old head with things that are too complicated for you a habit of yours, I'm afraid.
At intervals armed guards marched up with some wretched pale dirty Gorodovoi whom they had taken prisoner " Nicholas Markovitch paused again and again. He had been looking out to the sea over whose purple shadows the sky pale green and studded with silver stars seemed to wave magic shuttles of light, to and fro, backwards and forwards. "You don't mind all these details, Ivan Andreievitch?
They discussed, of course, the disturbances, and I can imagine Markovitch portentously announcing that "It was all over, he had the best of reasons-for knowing...." As he once explained to me, he was at his worst on Sunday, because he was then so inevitably reminded of his lost youth. "It's a gloomy day, Ivan Andreievitch, for all those who have not quite done what they expected.
There was a smile on his lips, that same smile half sneer half friendliness that I knew so well. His eyes were veiled.... He was, I believe, as violently surprised to see me as I had been to see him, but he held himself in complete control! He said, "Why, Durward!... Ivan Andreievitch!" Then he greeted the others. I was able, now, to notice the general effect of his arrival.
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