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"Very, very gladly," affably answered Platonov and suddenly looked at Lichonin with a radiant, almost child-like smile, which beautified his plain face with the prominent cheek-bones. "You, too, appealed to me from the first. And even when I saw you there, at Doroshenko's, I at once thought that you are not at all as rough as you seem."
Lichonin, for the sake of assurance, sat down beside the sub-professor, having embraced him around the waist and seated him on his knees and those of his neighbour, the little Tolpygin, a rosy, pleasant-faced boy on whose face, despite his twenty-three years, the childish white down soft and light still showed. "The station is at Doroshenko's!" called out Lichonin after the cabbies driving off.
"The stop is at Doroshenko's," he repeated, turning around. They all stopped at Doroshenko's restaurant, entered the general room, and crowded about the bar. All were satiated and no one wanted either to drink or to have a bite.
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