ling unutterably sorry for him.

"All the same," Ostrodumov remarked, "I am not in the least sorry for
the young people who run after Skoropikin."

"You are hopeless," Paklin thought. "I had better be going."

He went up to Nejdanov, intending to ask his opinion about smuggling
in the magazine, the "Polar Star", from abroad (the "Bell" had already
ceased to exist), but the conversation took such a turn that it was
impossible to raise the question. Paklin had already taken up his hat,
when suddenly, without the slightest warning, a wonderfully pleasant,
manly baritone was heard from the passage. The very sound of this voice
suggested something gentle, fresh, and well-bred.

"Is Mr. Nejdanov at home?"

They all looked at one another in amazement.

"Is Mr. Nejdanov at home?" the baritone repeated.

"Yes, he is," Nejdanov replied at last.

The door opened gently and a man of about forty entered the room and
slowly removed his glossy hat from his handsome, closely cropped head.
He was tall and well-made, and dressed in a beautiful cloth coat with
a gorgeous beaver collar, although it was already the end of April. He
impressed Nejdanov and Paklin, and even Mashurina and Ostrodumov,
with his elegant, easy carriage and courteous manner. They all rose
instinctively on his entrance.

III

THE elegantly dressed man went up to Nejdanov with an amiable smile and
began: "I have already had the pleasure of meeting you and even speaking
to you, Mr. Nejdanov, the day before yesterday, if you remember, at the
theatre." (The visitor paused, as though waiting for Nejdanov to make
some remark, but the latter merely bowed slightly and blushed.) "I have
come to see you about your advertisement, which I noticed in the paper.
I should like us to have a talk if your visitors would not mind..." (He
bowed to Mashurina, and waved a grey-gloved hand in the direction of
Paklin and Ostrodumov.)

"Not at all," Nejdanov replied awkwardly. "Won't you sit down?"

The visitor bowed from the waist, drew a chair to himself, but did not
sit down, as every one else was standing. He merely gazed around the room
with his bright though half-closed eyes.

"Goodbye, Alexai Dmitritch," Mashurina exclaimed suddenly. "I will come
again presently."

"And I too," Ostrodumov added.

Mashurina did not take the slightest notice of the visitor as she passed
him, but went straight up to Nejdanov, gave him a hearty shake of the
hand, and left the room