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Updated: May 13, 2025
"You had hardly gone away from Prince Korchagin's yesterday," he said, turning half round, "when I drove up, and the Swiss at the door says, 'just gone." The isvostchik knew that Nekhludoff visited at the Korchagins, and called there on the chance of being engaged by him.
There the whole Korchagin family except the mother, Sophia Vasilievna, who never left her cabinet were sitting round the table. At the head of the table sat old Korchagin; on his left the doctor, and on his right, a visitor, Ivan Ivanovitch Kolosoff, a former Marechal de Noblesse, now a bank director, Korchagin's friend and a Liberal.
He remembered the Korchagin's dinner and looked at his watch. It was not yet too late to get there in time. He heard the ring of a passing tramcar, ran to catch it, and jumped on. He jumped off again when they got to the market-place, took a good isvostchik, and ten minutes later was at the entrance of the Korchagins' big house.
"No, I will consider it later," he said to himself, "and now I must have some diversion from these painful impressions." The dinner at the Korchagin's came to his mind, and he looked at his watch. It was not too late to reach there for dinner. A tram-car passed by. He ran after it, and boarded it at a bound.
When he emerged from the house a carriage with rubber tires awaited him. "You had scarcely left Prince Korchagin's house yesterday when I called for you," said the driver, half-turning his stout, sun-burned neck in the white collar of his shirt, "and the footman said that you had just gone."
On the square he jumped off, took one of the best cabs, and ten minutes later he alighted in front of Korchagin's large dwelling. "Walk in, Your Excellency, you are expected," said the fat porter, pushing open the swinging, oaken door of the entrance. "They are dining, but I was told to admit you." The porter walked to the stairway and rang the bell. "Are there any guests?"
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