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Updated: June 23, 2025
'Enjoy yourselves, my dear friends! I muttered through my teeth. I ought to observe that I had not seen Tarhov during the whole week, though I had been three times to his rooms. He was never at home. Baburin and Punin I had not seen either.... I had not been to see them. I caught cold on my ride; though it was very warm, there was a piercing wind.
'In that case, there's nothing for me but to say good-bye. Tarhov faintly dropped his eyelids.... He was too happy at that moment. 'Good-bye, Petya, old boy, he said, a little through his nose, with a candid smile and a gay flash of all his white teeth. What was I to do? I left him to his 'happiness. As I slammed the door after me, the other door of the room slammed also I heard it.
But I was very young then. I held out my hand to Musa Pavlovna she did not give me hers she did not notice my movement; she sat down on the chair Tarhov placed for her, but did not take off her hat and cape. She was, obviously, ill at ease; my presence embarrassed her. She drew deep breaths, at irregular intervals, as though she were gasping for air.
I found Tarhov at home; he received me, and I found out indeed all I wanted to know; but there was nothing gained by that.
This is my great friend, a splendid fellow and the soul of discretion. You've no need to be afraid of him. Petya, he turned to me, 'let me introduce my Musa Musa Pavlovna Vinogradov, a great friend of mine. I bowed. 'How is that ... Musa? I was beginning.... Tarhov laughed. 'Ah, you didn't know there was such a name in the calendar?
As is often the case with young people who are very close friends, we had no secrets from one another. But behold, for several days together I noticed a certain excitement and agitation in Tarhov.... He disappeared for hours at a time, and I did not know where he had got to a thing which had never happened before.
There was the light click of hurrying heels, the door opened, and in the doorway appeared a girl of eighteen, in a chintz cotton gown, with a black cloth cape on her shoulders, and a black straw hat on her fair, rather curly hair. On seeing me she was frightened and disconcerted, and was beating a retreat ... but Tarhov at once rushed to meet her. 'Please, please, Musa Pavlovna, come in!
Punin was silent for a while. 'One of the old poets? The real ones? he asked at last. 'No; a new one. 'A new one? Punin repeated mistrustfully. 'Pushkin, I answered. I suddenly thought of the Gypsies which Tarhov had mentioned not long before. There, by the way, is the ballad about the old husband.
Our madame is very strict about books. She says they hinder our working. For, to her thinking ... 'But, I say, Yury Miloslavsky's not equal to Pushkin's Gipsies? Eh? Musa Pavlovna? Tarhov broke in with a smile. 'No, indeed! The Gipsies ... she murmured slowly. 'Oh yes, another thing, Vladimir Nikolaitch; don't come to-morrow ... you know where. 'Why not? 'It's impossible. 'But why?
The girl shrugged her shoulders, and all at once, as though she had received a sudden shove, got up from her chair. 'Why, Musa, Musotchka, Tarhov expostulated plaintively. 'Stay a little! 'No, no, I can't. She went quickly to the door, took hold of the handle.... 'Well, at least, take the book! 'Another time. Tarhov rushed towards the girl, but at that instant she darted out of the room.
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