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Shall we go this evening to hear the gypsies? the young man hurriedly went on in confusion. 'Styoshka will sing ... Ilyushka.... The prince vouchsafed no reply. 'Rrrrrakaliooon, old boy, said Hlopakov, with a sly wink of his left eye. And the prince exploded. 'Thirty-nine to love, sang out the marker.
'Well, what do you say to that, old man? the prince asked Hlopakov. 'What! rrrrakaliooon, of course, simply rrrrakaliooooon! The prince roared with laughter. 'What? what? Say it again. 'Rrrrrakaliooon! repeated the ex-lieutenant complacently. 'So that's the catchword! thought I. The prince sent the red into the pocket.
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