him as a
friend to take money from me, and it will be very suitable for me
to present him with this. I will take him the devilish thing! Luckily
he is a bachelor and easy-going."

Without further procrastination the doctor put on his hat and coat,
took the candelabra and went off to Uhov's.

"How are you, friend!" he said, finding the lawyer at home. "I've
come to see you . . . to thank you for your efforts. . . . You won't
take money so you must at least accept this thing here. . . . See,
my dear fellow. . . . The thing is magnificent!"

On seeing the bronze the lawyer was moved to indescribable delight.

"What a specimen!" he chuckled. "Ah, deuce take it, to think of
them imagining such a thing, the devils! Exquisite! Ravishing! Where
did you get hold of such a delightful thing?"

After pouring out his ecstasies the lawyer looked timidly towards
the door and said: "Only you must carry off your present, my boy
. . . . I can't take it. . . ."

"Why?" cried the doctor, disconcerted.

"Why . . . because my mother is here at times, my clients . . .
besides I should be ashamed for my servants to see it."

"Nonsense! Nonsense! Don't you dare to refuse!" said the doctor,
gesticulating. "It's piggish of you! It's a work of art! . . . What
movement . . . what expression! I won't even talk of it! You will
offend me!"

"If one could plaster it over or stick on fig-leaves . . ."

But the doctor gesticulated more violently than before, and dashing
out of the flat went home, glad that he had succeeded in getting
the present off his hands.

When he had gone away the lawyer examined the candelabra, fingered
it all over, and then, like the doctor, racked his brains over the
question what to do with the present.

"It's a fine thing," he mused, "and it would be a pity to throw it
away and improper to keep it. The very best thing would be to make
a present of it to someone. . . . I know what! I'll take it this
evening to Shashkin, the comedian. The rascal is fond of such things,
and by the way it is his benefit tonight."

No sooner said than done. In the evening the candelabra, carefully
wrapped up, was duly carried to Shashkin's. The whole evening the
comic actor's dressing-room was besieged by men coming to admire
the present; the dressing-room was filled with the hum of enthusiasm
and laughter like the neighing of horses. If one of the actresses
approached the door and asked: "May I come in?" the comedian's husky
voi