me with the meeting of Shipunov's and Ivantchikov's creditors; I
had to work in Galdeyev's office at the shop. . . . I've had nothing
to eat or to drink, and slept on a bench, I was chilled through
. . . . I hadn't a free minute. I hadn't even time to go to the flat.
That's how I came not to be at home, Nadyusha, . . And Kvashin,
holding his sides as though his back were aching, glanced stealthily
at his wife and mother-in-law to see the effect of his lie, or as
he called it, diplomacy. The mother-in-law and wife were looking
at each other in joyful astonishment, as though beyond all hope and
expectation they had found something precious, which they had
lost. . . . Their faces beamed, their eyes glowed. . . .

"My dear man," cried the old lady, jumping up, "why am I sitting
here? Tea! Tea at once! Perhaps you are hungry?"

"Of course he is hungry," cried his wife, pulling off her head a
bandage soaked in vinegar. "Mamma, bring the wine, and the savouries.
Natalya, lay the table! Oh, my goodness, nothing is ready!"

And both of them, frightened, happy, and bustling, ran about the
room. The old lady could not look without laughing at her daughter
who had slandered an innocent man, and the daughter felt
ashamed. . . .

The table was soon laid. Kvashin, who smelt of madeira and liqueurs
and who could scarcely breathe from repletion, complained of being
hungry, forced himself to munch and kept on talking of the meeting
of Shipunov's and Ivantchikov's creditors, while his wife and
mother-in-law could not take their eyes off his face, and both
thought:

"How clever and kind he is! How handsome!"

"All serene," thought Kvashin, as he lay down on the well-filled
feather bed. "Though they are regular tradesmen's wives, though
they are Philistines, yet they have a charm of their own, and one
can spend a day or two of the week here with enjoyment. . . ."

He wrapped himself up, got warm, and as he dozed off, he said to
himself:

"All serene!"

A GENTLEMAN FRIEND

THE charming Vanda, or, as she was described in her passport, the
"Honourable Citizen Nastasya Kanavkin," found herself, on leaving
the hospital, in a position she had never been in before: without
a home to go to or a farthing in her pocket. What was she to do?

The first thing she did was to visit a pawn-broker's and pawn her
turquoise ring, her one piece of jewellery. They gave her a rouble
for the ring . . . but what can you get for a rouble? You can't