ine.

Looking at the present, the doctor slowly scratched behind his ear,
cleared his throat and blew his nose irresolutely.

"Yes, it certainly is a fine thing," he muttered, "but . . . how
shall I express it? . . . it's . . . h'm . . . it's not quite for
family reading. It's not simply decollete but beyond anything, dash
it all. . . ."

"How do you mean?"

"The serpent-tempter himself could not have invented anything worse
. . . . Why, to put such a phantasmagoria on the table would be
defiling the whole flat."

"What a strange way of looking at art, doctor!" said Sasha, offended.
"Why, it is an artistic thing, look at it! There is so much beauty
and elegance that it fills one's soul with a feeling of reverence
and brings a lump into one's throat! When one sees anything so
beautiful one forgets everything earthly. . . . Only look, how much
movement, what an atmosphere, what expression!"

"I understand all that very well, my dear boy," the doctor interposed,
"but you know I am a family man, my children run in here, ladies
come in."

"Of course if you look at it from the point of view of the crowd,"
said Sasha, "then this exquisitely artistic work may appear in a
certain light. . . . But, doctor, rise superior to the crowd,
especially as you will wound mamma and me by refusing it. I am the
only son of my mother, you have saved my life. . . . We are giving
you the thing most precious to us and . . . and I only regret that
I have not the pair to present to you. . . ."

"Thank you, my dear fellow, I am very grateful . . . Give my respects
to your mother but really consider, my children run in here, ladies
come. . . . However, let it remain! I see there's no arguing with
you."

"And there is nothing to argue about," said Sasha, relieved. "Put
the candlestick here, by this vase. What a pity we have not the
pair to it! It is a pity! Well, good-bye, doctor."

After Sasha's departure the doctor looked for a long time at the
candelabra, scratched behind his ear and meditated.

"It's a superb thing, there's no denying it," he thought, "and it
would be a pity to throw it away. . . . But it's impossible for me
to keep it. . . . H'm! . . . Here's a problem! To whom can I make
a present of it, or to what charity can I give it?"

After long meditation he thought of his good friend, the lawyer
Uhov, to whom he was indebted for the management of legal business.

"Excellent," the doctor decided, "it would be awkward for