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Finally, after supper Woloda and Dubkoff would usually go off to some place whither Nechludoff would not accompany them; wherefore they called him "a dainty girl." The very first time that I ever saw Prince Nechludoff I was struck with his exterior and conversation.
"How do you do, DIPLOMAT?" said Dubkoff to me as he shook me by the hand. "Where has Woloda gone to?" asked Nechludoff. "I don't know," I replied, blushing to think that nevertheless they had probably guessed his errand. "I suppose he has no money? Yes, I can see I am right, O diplomatist," he added, taking my smile as an answer in the affirmative. "Well, I have none, either.
"I think that EVERYBODY is egotistic, and that everything we do is done out of egotism." "But what do you call egotism?" asked Nechludoff smiling, as I thought, a little contemptuously. "Egotism is a conviction that we are better and cleverer than any one else," I replied. "But how can we ALL be filled with this conviction?" he inquired.
As for Prince Nechludoff, he was in no way handsome, since neither his small grey eyes, his low, projecting forehead, nor his disproportionately long hands and feet could be called good features. The only good points about him were his unusually tall stature, his delicate colouring, and his splendid teeth.
In the Nechludoff family that spot was Dimitri's extraordinary affection for Lubov Sergievna, which aroused in the mother and sister, if not a jealous feeling, at all events a sense of hurt family pride. This was the grave significance which underlay, for all those present, the seeming dispute about Ivan Yakovlevitch and superstition.
Accordingly, the first time that he spoke to me after the carnival, I said that I had lessons to do, and went upstairs, but a quarter of an hour later some one opened the schoolroom door, and Nechludoff entered. "Am I disturbing you?" he asked. "No," I replied, although I had at first intended to say that I had a great deal to do. "Then why did you run away just now?
"Why don't you say that you have no money? Here, take my ticket." "But what are you going to do?" "He can go into his cousin's box," said Dubkoff. "No, I'm not going at all," replied Nechludoff. "Why?" "Because I hate sitting in a box." "And for what reason?" "I don't know. Somehow I feel uncomfortable there." "Always the same!
Just as I burst into Woloda's room, I heard behind me the voices of Dubkoff and Nechludoff, who had come to congratulate me, as well as to propose a dinner somewhere and the drinking of much champagne in honour of my matriculation.
Woloda and Dubkoff seemed to be afraid of anything like serious consideration or emotion, whereas Nechludoff was beyond all things an enthusiast, and would often, despite their sarcastic remarks, plunge into dissertations on philosophical matters or matters of feeling.
"Well, get ready, Woloda," interrupted Dubkoff, tapping my brother on the shoulder and handing him his cloak. "Ignaz, get your master ready." "Therefore," continued Nechludoff, "it often happens with me that " But Dubkoff was not listening. "Tra-la-la-la," and he hummed a popular air. "Oh, but I'm not going to let you off," went on Nechludoff.
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