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Updated: June 9, 2025
Trudolyubov struck up some stupid song. Simonov remained behind for a moment to tip the waiters. I suddenly went up to him. "Simonov! give me six roubles!" I said, with desperate resolution. He looked at me in extreme amazement, with vacant eyes. He, too, was drunk. "You don't mean you are coming with us?" "Yes." "I've no money," he snapped out, and with a scornful laugh he went out of the room.
Trudolyubov was on my left, Simonov on my right, Zverkov was sitting opposite, Ferfitchkin next to him, between him and Trudolyubov. "Tell me, are you ... in a government office?" Zverkov went on attending to me. Seeing that I was embarrassed he seriously thought that he ought to be friendly to me, and, so to speak, cheer me up. "Does he want me to throw a bottle at his head?"
He was some sort of distant relation of Zverkov's, and this, foolish as it seems, gave him a certain importance among us. He always thought me of no consequence whatever; his behaviour to me, though not quite courteous, was tolerable. "Well, with seven roubles each," said Trudolyubov, "twenty-one roubles between the three of us, we ought to be able to get a good dinner.
I dropped my eyes. Simonov made haste to fill up the glasses with champagne. Trudolyubov raised his glass, as did everyone else but me. "Your health and good luck on the journey!" he cried to Zverkov. "To old times, to our future, hurrah!" They all tossed off their glasses, and crowded round Zverkov to kiss him. I did not move; my full glass stood untouched before me.
You shall fire first and I shall fire into the air." "He is comforting himself," said Simonov. "He's simply raving," said Trudolyubov. "But let us pass. Why are you barring our way? What do you want?" Zverkov answered disdainfully. They were all flushed, their eyes were bright: they had been drinking heavily. "I ask for your friendship, Zverkov; I insulted you, but ..." "Insulted?
"If he wants to come so much, let him." "But it's a private thing, between us friends," Ferfitchkin said crossly, as he, too, picked up his hat. "It's not an official gathering." "We do not want at all, perhaps ..." They went away. Ferfitchkin did not greet me in any way as he went out, Trudolyubov barely nodded.
Zverkov cried, authoritatively. "How stupid it is!" muttered Simonov. "It really is stupid. We have met here, a company of friends, for a farewell dinner to a comrade and you carry on an altercation," said Trudolyubov, rudely addressing himself to me alone. "You invited yourself to join us, so don't disturb the general harmony." "Enough, enough!" cried Zverkov.
He was one of those worshippers of Zverkov who made up to the latter from interested motives, and often borrowed money from him. Simonov's other visitor, Trudolyubov, was a person in no way remarkable a tall young fellow, in the army, with a cold face, fairly honest, though he worshipped success of every sort, and was only capable of thinking of promotion.
Trudolyubov inquired. "I arrived at five o'clock as you told me yesterday," I answered aloud, with an irritability that threatened an explosion. "Didn't you let him know that we had changed the hour?" said Trudolyubov to Simonov. "No, I didn't. I forgot," the latter replied, with no sign of regret, and without even apologising to me he went off to order the HORS D'OEUVRE.
YOU insulted ME? Understand, sir, that you never, under any circumstances, could possibly insult ME." "And that's enough for you. Out of the way!" concluded Trudolyubov. "Olympia is mine, friends, that's agreed!" cried Zverkov. "We won't dispute your right, we won't dispute your right," the others answered, laughing. I stood as though spat upon. The party went noisily out of the room.
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