or old?

DOBCHINSKY. Young--a young man of about twenty-three. But he talks as
if he were older. "If you will allow me," he says, "I will go there
and there." [Waves his hands.] He does it all with such distinction. "I
like," he says, "to read and write, but I am prevented because my room
is rather dark."

ANNA. And what sort of a looking man is he, dark or fair?

DOBCHINSKY. Neither. I should say rather chestnut. And his eyes dart
about like little animals. They make you nervous.

ANNA. Let me see what my husband writes. [Reads.] "I hasten to let you
know, dear, that my position was extremely uncomfortable, but relying
on the mercy of God, two pickles extra and a half portion of caviar, one
ruble and twenty-five kopeks." [Stops.] I don't understand. What have
pickles and caviar got to do with it?

DOBCHINSKY. Oh, Anton Antonovich hurriedly wrote on a piece of scrap
paper. There's a kind of bill on it.

ANNA. Oh, yes, I see. [Goes on reading.] "But relying on the mercy
of God, I believe all will turn out well in the end. Get a room ready
quickly for the distinguished guest--the one with the gold wall paper.
Don't bother to get any extras for dinner because we'll have something
at the hospital with Artemy Filippovich. Order a little more wine, and
tell Abdulin to send the best, or I'll wreck his whole cellar. I kiss
your hand, my dearest, and remain yours, Anton Skvoznik-Dmukhanovsky."
Oh my! I must hurry. Hello, who's there? Mishka?

DOBCHINSKY [Runs to the door and calls.] Mishka! Mishka! Mishka! [Mishka
enters.]

ANNA. Listen! Run over to Abdulin--wait, I'll give you a note. [She
sits down at the table and writes, talking all the while.] Give this to
Sidor, the coachman, and tell him to take it to Abdulin and bring back
the wine. And get to work at once and make the gold room ready for
a guest. Do it nicely. Put a bed in it, a wash basin and pitcher and
everything else.

DOBCHINSKY. Well, I'm going now, Anna Andreyevna, to see how he does the
inspecting.

ANNA. Go on, I'm not keeping you.

SCENE III

Anna Andreyevna and Marya Antonovna.

ANNA. Now, Mashenka, we must attend to our toilet. He's a metropolitan
swell and God forbid that he should make fun of us. You put on your blue
dress with the little flounces. It's the most becoming.

MARYA. The idea, mamma! The blue dress! I can't bear it.
Liapkin-Tiapkin's wife wears blue and so does Zemlianika's daughter. I'd
rather wear my flowered dress.