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"And please make it as quick as possible, housekeeper dear, won't you be so kind?" "Right away, right away, miss." "Why, why do you do this, Jennie?" asked Gladishev with anguish. "Well, what's that for? ...Is it possible that you want to tell about it? ..." "Wait awhile, that's not your business...Wait a while, I won't do anything unpleasant for you."
He might have gone away, saying that not a one here pleased him; have put the blame on a headache, or something; but he knew that Gladishev would not let him go; and mainly it seemed unbearably hard to get up from his place and to walk a few steps by himself. And, besides that, he felt that he had not the strength to start talking of this with Kolya. They finished dancing.
"You're joking! ... You're teasing me on purpose, Jennie!" muttered Gladishev, wrathful, frightened, and out of his wits. "Joking? ...Come here!" She abruptly compelled him to get up on his feet, lit a match and said: "Now look closely at what I'm going to show you..." She opened her mouth wide and placed the light so that it would illumine her larynx. Kolya looked and staggered back.
The girls started to whirl around with one another, ceremoniously as usual, with stiffened backs and with eyes modestly cast down. Kolya Gladishev, who was very fond of dancing, could not hold out and invited Tamara; he knew even from the previous winter that she danced more lightly and skillfully than the rest.
Or else save them for gloves for yourself, you marmot!" "But what are you cursing for?" grumbled Petrov, without raising his eyes. "I'm not cursing you, am I? Then why do you curse first? I have a full right to act as I want to. But I have passed some time with you, and so take them. But to be forced, I don't want to. And on your part, Gladishev that is, Soliterov this isn't at all nice.
And if you come another time, then I won't let youse in at all. You are wise guys, you are! You gave the old hound money for whiskey so now he's gone and croaked." "Well, don't you get too smart, now!" Gladishev flew at him, all ruffled up.
"And what do they torture you for, angels that you are? If I was to have a brother like you, or a son my heart would just simply bleed. Here's to your health, little cadet!" They clinked glasses. Jennka was just as attentively scrutinizing Gladishev. "And you, Jennechka?" he asked, extending a glass.
And so it happened once, that they did not exactly persuade Gladishev to go to Anna Markovna, but rather he himself had begged to go, so weakly had he resisted temptation. This evening he always recalled with horror, with aversion; and dimly, just like some heavy dream.
"But where's Jennie?" Gladishev asked of Tamara. "Is she busy with anybody?" Tamara looked him in the eyes intently looked so fixedly, that the boy even began to feel uncomfortable, and turned away. "No. Why should she be busy?
His face was blue, almost black. He did not move, and was lying strangely small, shrunken, with legs bent. One arm was squeezed in under his breast, while the other was flung back. "What's the matter with him?" asked Gladishev in a fright.
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