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Updated: May 8, 2025
"At your service," answered the tobacconist. "Cigarettes?" he inquired. "Strong? Light? Kir, Samson, Dubec?" "I am the new Russian Consul," said the stranger. "This gentleman is just arrived from Petersburg and has business with you." "My name is Konstantin Grabofsky, and I am a lawyer," observed the little man very sharply.
He has very soft brown eyes, a healthy complexion and a nose the inverse of aquiline, for it curves upwards to its sharp point, as though perpetually snuffing after the pleasant fragrance of his favourite "Dubec otborny." "Well, my children," he said, with a slight stammer that somehow lent an additional kindliness to his tone, "what has the day's work been?
Within the high, narrow shop there is good store of rare tobaccos, from the mild Kir to the Imperial Samson, the aromatic Dubec and the pungent Swary.
"I will take a box of these cigarettes with me. They are good." "Thank you most obediently, Milostivy Gosudar!" exclaimed Fischelowitz, bowing low. "I trust that the Gospodin Consul will honour me with his patronage. I have a great variety of tobaccos, Kir, Basma, Samson, Dubec Imperial, Swary "
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