I shall be disgraced all over Russia. . . ." Podzharov thought a little, smoked, and to calm himself went out into the street. "I ought to talk to this bully, ram into his stupid noddle that he is a blockhead and a fool, and that I am not in the least afraid of him. . . ." The jeune premier stopped before Zybaev's house and looked at the windows.
At two o'clock in the night the guests began coming out of Zybaev's house. The landowner from Tula was the last to make his appearance. He heaved a sigh that could be heard by the whole street and scraped the pavement with his heavy overboots. "Excuse me!" said the jeune premier, overtaking him. "One minute." Klimov stopped.
Whenever he remembers that acquaintance now he frowns contemptuously, screws up his eyes, and nervously plays with his watch-chain. One day it was at a name-day party at Zybaev's the actor was sitting in his new friends' drawing-room and holding forth as usual.
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