men, what the devil for have we dragged into our company this
peach off the street? We must needs tie up with all sorts of riff-raff?
The devil knows what he is--perhaps he's even a dinny? Who can vouch
for him? And you're always like that, Lichonin."

"It isn't Lichonin but I who introduced him to everybody,"' said
Ramses. "I know him for a fully respectable person and a good
companion."

"Eh! Nonsense! A good companion to drink at some one else's expense.
Why, don't you see for yourselves that this is the most ordinary type
of habitue attached to a brothel, and, most probably, he is simply the
pimp here, to whom a percentage is paid for the entertainment into
which he entices the visitors."

"Leave off, Borya. It's foolish," remarked Yarchenko reproachfully.

But Borya could not leave off. He had an unfortunate
peculiarity--intoxication acted neither upon his legs nor his tongue,
but put him in a morose, touchy frame of mind and egged him on into
quarrels. And Platonov had already for a long time irritated him with
his negligently sincere, assured and serious bearing, so little
suitable to the private cabinet of a brothel. But the seeming
indifference with which the reporter let pass the malicious remarks
which he interposed into the conversation angered Sobashnikov still
more.

"And then, the tone in which he permits himself to speak in our
company!" Sobashnikov continued to seethe. "A certain aplomb,
condescension, a professorial tone ... The scurvy penny-a-liner! The
free-lunch grafter!"

Jennie, who had all the time been looking intently at the student,
gaily and maliciously flashing with her sparkling dark eyes, suddenly
began to clap her hands.

"That's the way! Bravo, little student! Bravo, bravo, bravo! ... That's
the way, give it to him good! ... Really, what sort of a disgrace is
this! When he'll come, now, I'll repeat everything to him."

"I--if you please! A--as much as you like!" Sobashnikov drawled out
like an actor, making superciliously squeamish creases about his mouth.
"I shall repeat the very same things myself."

"There's a fine fellow, now,--I love you for that!" exclaimed Jennie
joyously and maliciously, striking her fist on the table. "You can tell
an owl at once by its flight, a good man by his snot!"

Little White Manya and Tamara looked at Jennie with wonder, but, noting
the evil little lights leaping in her eyes and her nervously quivering
nostrils, they both understood and smil