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Updated: June 26, 2025
Indeed, I can assure you of its clean origin," he repeated with peculiar emphasis. Misha looked with curiosity at the speakers. He wished to hear something about Trirodov. But Piotr quickly paid his bill and rose to go. Kerbakh tried to hold him. "Here's a friend of your friend Trirodov," he said.
He did not dare as yet to visit Trirodov again, but appeared to be in an expectant mood, and remained in town. It was here that Ostrov met his old friend Yakov Poltinin. Yakov Poltinin and two other members of the Black Hundred were sent from the capital at the request of Kerbakh and Zherbenev.
Andrey Lavrentyevitch Zherbenev, a tall, lank man with an important air, sat motionless and erect as though he were nailed to his chair, and surveyed those round him with a stern glance. His white linen coat, with all its buttons fastened, sat on him as on a bronze idol. "In everything, I say, the parents are to blame," continued Kerbakh in the same savage voice as before.
Trirodov's is of comparatively recent origin. I'm quite sure of that. Of recent origin, I assure you," repeated Ostrov, giving a sly wink. "And not of the cleanest?" asked Kerbakh. He winked at Zherbenev. The latter made a grimace and chuckled. Ostrov looked cautiously at Kerbakh. "Why do you assume so?" he asked. "No-o, I shouldn't say that. Quite clean.
They carried on their indecent, half-tipsy conversations in the midst of nature's loveliness. They looked like a lot of picnickers. Zinaida Grigorievna and Kerbakh, who were in one carriage, were engaged in a malicious conversation. They tore their acquaintances to shreds. She began with Poterin's gloves.
Zherbenev is very busy at this he's one of your genuine Russians." "Kerbakh is with him another patriot for you," observed Kiril. "The most dangerous man in our town, this Zherbenev. Vermin of the most foul kind," said Stchemilov contemptuously. "I am going to kill him," said Kiril hotly.
Some one made the observation that Trirodov was friends with dangerous sects, at which Kerbakh remarked: "He now has horses and carriages, but I know a man who knew him when he had only his shirt. It is rather suspicious as to where he got his money." Glafira Pavlovna looked at Shabalov and whispered to Doulebov: "I know he is a patriot, but he has terrible manners."
"My friend also did not appeal to me at the beginning," said Zherbenev, who would not stay repressed. "To look at him you might think that he's a cut-throat," said Kerbakh. "That describes my man too," announced Zherbenev, as if he were announcing something gay and pleasant. "But at heart," went on Kerbakh, "he is an ingenuous infant and an enthusiastic patriot."
Once after dinner at Konopatskaya's, Kerbakh and Zherbenev were telling Glafira Pavlovna about Ostrov. Kerbakh was the first to broach the subject: "I have in view a man whom I should like to call to your attention." "I too know a lively chap," said Zherbenev. Kerbakh, annoyed at the interruption, looked none too amiably at Zherbenev, and went on: "He didn't at all please me at first."
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