age would be
gladly put at his disposal. Then followed the usual polite signature and
a postscript written in the first person:

"I hope that you will not refuse to take dinner with us quite simply.
No dress clothes." (The words "quite simply" were underlined.)
Together with this letter the footman (not without a certain amount of
embarrassment) gave Solomin another letter from Nejdanov. It was just a
simple note, not sealed with wax but merely stuck down, containing
the following lines: "Do please come. You're wanted badly and may be
extremely useful. I need hardly say not to Mr. Sipiagin."

On finishing Sipiagin's letter Solomin thought, "How else can I go if
not simply? I haven't any dress clothes at the factory... And what the
devil should I drag myself over there for? It's just a waste of time!"
But after reading Nejdanov's note, he scratched the back of his neck and
walked over to the window, irresolute.

"What answer am I to take back, sir?" the footman in green livery asked
slowly.

Solomin stood for some seconds longer at the window.

"I am coming with you," he announced, shaking back his hair and passing
his hand over his forehead--"just let me get dressed."

The footman left the room respectfully and Solomin sent for Pavel, had
a talk with him, ran across to the factory once more, then putting on a
black coat with a very long waist, which had been made by a provincial
tailor, and a shabby top-hat which instantly gave his face a wooden
expression, took his seat in the phaeton. He suddenly remembered that he
had forgotten his gloves, and called out to the "never-failing" Pavel,
who brought him a pair of newly-washed white kid ones, the fingers of
which were so stretched at the tips that they looked like long biscuits.
Solomin thrust the gloves into his pocket and gave the order to start.
Then the footman jumped onto the box with an unnecessary amount of
alacrity, the well-bred coachman sang out in a falsetto voice, and the
horses started off at a gallop.

While the horses were bearing Solomin along to Sipiagin's, that
gentleman was sitting in his drawing-room with a halfcut political
pamphlet on his knee, discussing him with his wife. He confided to her
that he had written to him with the express purpose of trying to get him
away from the merchant's factory to his own, which was in a very bad way
and needed reorganising. Sipiagin would not for a moment entertain
the idea that Solomin would refuse to com