d threw his arms round Chubikoff in a cordial
embrace. Olga Petrovna slipped through the door.

"How did you come here? Let's have a drink, devil take it!
Tra-ta-ti-to-tum--let us drink! But who brought you here? How did you
find out that I was here? But it doesn't matter! Let's have a drink!"

Klausoff lit the lamp and poured out three glasses of vodka.

"That is--I don't understand you," said the examining magistrate,
running his hands over him. "Is this you or not you!"

"Oh, shut up! You want to preach me a sermon? Don't trouble yourself!
Young Dukovski, empty your glass! Friends, let us bring this--What are
you looking at? Drink!"

"All the same, I do not understand!" said the examining magistrate,
mechanically drinking off the vodka. "What are you here for?"

"Why shouldn't I be here, if I am all right here?"

Klausoff drained his glass and took a bite of ham.

"I am in captivity here, as you see. In solitude, in a cavern, like a
ghost or a bogey. Drink! She carried me off and locked me up, and--well,
I am living here, in the deserted bath house, like a hermit. I am fed.
Next week I think I'll try to get out. I'm tired of it here!"

"Incomprehensible!" said Dukovski.

"What is incomprehensible about it?"

"Incomprehensible! For Heaven's sake, how did your boot get into the
garden?"

"What boot?"

"We found one boot in the sleeping room and the other in the garden."

"And what do you want to know that for? It's none of your business! Why
don't you drink, devil take you? If you wakened me, then drink with me!
It is an interesting tale, brother, that of the boot! I didn't want to
go with Olga. I don't like to be bossed. She came under the window and
began to abuse me. She always was a termagant. You know what women are
like, all of them. I was a bit drunk, so I took a boot and heaved it at
her. Ha-ha-ha! Teach her not to scold another time! But it didn't! Not a
bit of it! She climbed in at the window, lit the lamp, and began to
hammer poor tipsy me. She thrashed me, dragged me over here, and locked
me in. She feeds me now--on love, vodka, and ham! But where are you off
to, Chubikoff? Where are you going?"

The examining magistrate swore, and left the bath house. Dukovski
followed him, crestfallen. They silently took their seats in the
carriage and drove off. The road never seemed to them so long and
disagreeable as it did that time. Both remained silent. Chubikoff
trembled with rage all the way. Duk