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Updated: May 12, 2025
He was discussing something in an undertone with a fat, flabby-looking Jew, and seeing his cousin, flushed crimson and looked down at an album. The sense of decency was stirred in Kryukov and the blood rushed to his head. Overwhelmed with amazement, shame, and anger, he walked up to the table without a word. Sokolsky's head sank lower than ever.
A minute later he got up, and looking at the surprised lieutenant, with his eyes full of tears from laughing, said: "Close the door. Well . . . she is a fe-e-male, I beg to inform you!" "Did you get the IOUs?" Kryukov waved his hand and went off into a peal of laughter again. "Well! she is a female!" he went on. "Merci for the acquaintance, my boy! She's a devil in petticoats.
Kryukov, standing with his feet wide apart and his head bent, listened and frowned. "Are you joking?" he asked. "How the devil could I be joking? It's no joking matter!" "I don't understand!" muttered Kryukov, turning crimson and flinging up his hands. "It's positively . . . immoral on your part.
From the open windows of the owner's house came sounds of laughter and singing: "'Brighter than lightning, more burning than flame. . . ." sang a powerful, mellow, bass voice. "Aha! she has visitors," thought Kryukov. And he was annoyed that she had visitors. "Shall I go back?" he thought with his hand on the bell, but he rang all the same, and went up the familiar staircase.
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