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Updated: May 21, 2025
In the interval, he went up to Brizzhalov, walked beside him, and overcoming his shyness, muttered: "I spattered you, your Excellency, forgive me . . . you see . . . I didn't do it to . . . ." "Oh, that's enough . . . I'd forgotten it, and you keep on about it!" said the general, moving his lower lip impatiently.
In the old gentleman, Tchervyakov recognised Brizzhalov, a civilian general serving in the Department of Transport. "I have spattered him," thought Tchervyakov, "he is not the head of my department, but still it is awkward. I must apologise." Tchervyakov gave a cough, bent his whole person forward, and whispered in the general's ear. "Pardon, your Excellency, I spattered you accidentally. . . ."
On getting home, Tchervyakov told his wife of his breach of good manners. It struck him that his wife took too frivolous a view of the incident; she was a little frightened, but when she learned that Brizzhalov was in a different department, she was reassured. "Still, you had better go and apologise," she said, "or he will think you don't know how to behave in public." "That's just it!
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