ned out of the road and walked quickly in the direction of
Darya Mihailovna's house.
Lezhnyov let him pass, looked after him, and after a moment's thought he
too turned his horse's head round, and drove back to Volintsev's, where
he had spent the night. He found him asleep, and giving orders he should
not be waked, he sat down on the balcony to wait for some tea and smoked
a pipe.
X
Volintsev got up at ten o'clock. When he heard that Lezhnyov was sitting
in the balcony, he was much surprised, and sent to ask him to come to
him.
'What has happened?' he asked him. 'I thought you meant to drive home?'
'Yes; I did mean to, but I met Rudin.... He was wandering about the
country with such a distracted countenance. So I turned back at once.'
'You came back because you met Rudin?'
'That's to say,--to tell the truth, I don't know why I came back myself,
I suppose because I was reminded of you; I wanted to be with you, and I
have plenty of time before I need go home.'
Volintsev smiled bitterly.
'Yes; one cannot think of Rudin now without thinking of me.... Boy!' he
cried harshly, 'bring us some tea.'
The friends began to drink tea. Lezhnyov talked of agricultural
matters,--of a new method of roofing barns with paper....
Suddenly Volintsev leaped up from his chair and struck the table with
such force that the cups and saucers rang.
'No!' he cried, 'I cannot bear this any longer! I will call out this
witty fellow, and let him shoot me,--at least I will try to put a bullet
through his learned brains!'
'What are you talking about? Upon my word!' grumbled Lezhnyov, 'how can
you scream like that? I dropped my pipe.... What's the matter with you?'
'The matter is, that I can't hear his name and keep calm; it sets all my
blood boiling!'
'Hush, my dear fellow, hush! aren't you ashamed?' rejoined Lezhnyov,
picking up his pipe from the ground. 'Leave off! Let him alone!'
'He has insulted me,' pursued Volintsev, walking up and down the room.
'Yes! he has insulted me. You must admit that yourself. At first I was
not sharp enough; he took me by surprise; and who could have expected
this? But I will show him that he cannot make a fool of me. ... I will
shoot him, the damned philosopher, like a partridge.'
'Much you will gain by that, indeed! I won't speak of your sister now.
I can see you're in a passion... how could you think of your sister!
But in relation to another individual--what! do you imagin
|