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Seduce the Circassian girls, shoot the enemies of the fatherland and ... and ... to your health, Monsieur Zverkov!" Zverkov got up from his seat, bowed to me and said: "I am very much obliged to you." He was frightfully offended and turned pale. "Damn the fellow!" roared Trudolyubov, bringing his fist down on the table. "Well, he wants a punch in the face for that," squealed Ferfitchkin.
With despair I pictured to myself how coldly and disdainfully that "scoundrel" Zverkov would meet me; with what dull-witted, invincible contempt the blockhead Trudolyubov would look at me; with what impudent rudeness the insect Ferfitchkin would snigger at me in order to curry favour with Zverkov; how completely Simonov would take it all in, and how he would despise me for the abjectness of my vanity and lack of spirit and, worst of all, how paltry, UNLITERARY, commonplace it would all be.
"It wasn't my fault, but other people's. They neglected to let me know. It was ... it was ... it was simply absurd." "It's not only absurd, but something else as well," muttered Trudolyubov, naively taking my part. "You are not hard enough upon it. It was simply rudeness unintentional, of course. And how could Simonov ... h'm!"
Zverkov was talking all the time. I began listening. "And yet this Kolya, who has three thousand serfs, has not put in an appearance here tonight to see you off," I cut in suddenly. For one minute every one was silent. "You are drunk already." Trudolyubov deigned to notice me at last, glancing contemptuously in my direction. Zverkov, without a word, examined me as though I were an insect.
"Oh, there's no making you out ... with these refinements," Trudolyubov jeered. "We'll put your name down," Simonov decided, addressing me. "Tomorrow at five-o'clock at the Hotel de Paris." "What about the money?" Ferfitchkin began in an undertone, indicating me to Simonov, but he broke off, for even Simonov was embarrassed. "That will do," said Trudolyubov, getting up.
Anyway, I shall first slap him; the initiative will be mine; and by the laws of honour that is everything: he will be branded and cannot wipe off the slap by any blows, by nothing but a duel. He will be forced to fight. And let them beat me now. Let them, the ungrateful wretches! Trudolyubov will beat me hardest, he is so strong; Ferfitchkin will be sure to catch hold sideways and tug at my hair.
"Why, aren't you going to drink it?" roared Trudolyubov, losing patience and turning menacingly to me. "I want to make a speech separately, on my own account ... and then I'll drink it, Mr. Trudolyubov." "Spiteful brute!" muttered Simonov.
"Yes, you can't afford to dine at cafes on that," Ferfitchkin added insolently. "To my thinking it's very poor," Trudolyubov observed gravely. "And how thin you have grown! How you have changed!" added Zverkov, with a shade of venom in his voice, scanning me and my attire with a sort of insolent compassion. "Oh, spare his blushes," cried Ferfitchkin, sniggering.
Certainly," he answered. But probably I was so ridiculous as I challenged him and it was so out of keeping with my appearance that everyone including Ferfitchkin was prostrate with laughter. "Yes, let him alone, of course! He is quite drunk," Trudolyubov said with disgust. "I shall never forgive myself for letting him join us," Simonov muttered again.
Simonov looked at me ironically. Trudolyubov left off eating and began looking at me with curiosity. Zverkov winced, but he tried not to notice it. "And the remuneration?" "What remuneration?" "I mean, your sa-a-lary?" "Why are you cross-examining me?" However, I told him at once what my salary was. I turned horribly red. "It is not very handsome," Zverkov observed majestically.
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