a part
that hurt my pride, I liked sitting in his room when he had visitors,
and silently watching all they did. The two who came most frequently
to see him were a military adjutant called Dubkoff and a student named
Prince Nechludoff. Dubkoff was a little dark-haired, highly-strung man
who, though short of stature and no longer in his first youth, had
a pleasing and invariably cheerful air. His was one of those limited
natures which are agreeable through their very limitations; natures
which cannot regard matters from every point of view, but which are
nevertheless attracted by everything. Usually the reasoning of such
persons is false and one-sided, yet always genuine and taking; wherefore
their narrow egotism seems both amiable and excusable. There were two
other reasons why Dubkoff had charms for Woloda and myself--namely,
the fact that he was of military appearance, and, secondly (and
principally), the fact that he was of a certain age--an age with which
young people are apt to associate that quality of "gentlemanliness"
which is so highly esteemed at their time of life. However, he was in
very truth un homme comme il faut. The only thing which I did not like
about it all was that, in his presence, Woloda always seemed ashamed
of my innocent behaviour, and still more so of my youthfulness. As for
Prince Nechludoff, he was in no way handsome, since neither his small
grey eyes, his low, projecting forehead, nor his disproportionately long
hands and feet could be called good features. The only good points about
him were his unusually tall stature, his delicate colouring, and
his splendid teeth. Nevertheless, his face was of such an original,
energetic character (owing to his narrow, sparkling eyes and
ever-changing expression--now stern, now childlike, now smiling
indeterminately) that it was impossible to help noticing it. As a rule
he was very shy, and would blush to the ears at the smallest trifle, but
it was a shyness altogether different from mine, seeing that, the more
he blushed, the more determined-looking he grew, as though he were vexed
at his own weakness.

Although he was on very good terms with Woloda and Dubkoff, it was
clearly chance which had united them thus, since their tastes were
entirely dissimilar. Woloda and Dubkoff seemed to be afraid of anything
like serious consideration or emotion, whereas Nechludoff was beyond all
things an enthusiast, and would often, despite their sarcastic remarks,
plu