Still failing to observe Voldyrev, the clerk caught the fly on his lip, looked at it attentively and flung it away. The country gentleman coughed and blew his nose loudly on his checked pocket handkerchief. But this was no use either. He was still unheard. The silence lasted for two minutes. Voldyrev took a rouble note from his pocket and laid it on an open book before the clerk. The clerk wrinkled up his forehead, drew the book towards him with an anxious air and closed it. "A little inquiry. . . . I want only to find out on what grounds the heirs of Princess Gugulin. . . . May I trouble you?" The clerk, absorbed in his own thoughts, got up and, scratching his elbow, went to a cupboard for something. Returning a minute later to his table he became absorbed in the book again: another rouble note was lying upon it. "I will trouble you for one minute only. . . . I have only to make an inquiry." The clerk did not hear, he had begun copying something. Voldyrev frowned and looked hopelessly at the whole scribbling brotherhood. "They write!" he thought, sighing. "They write, the devil take them entirely!" He walked away from the table and stopped in the middle of the room, his hands hanging hopelessly at his sides. The porter, passing again with glasses, probably noticed the helpless expression of his face, for he went close up to him and asked him in a low voice: "Well? Have you inquired?" "I've inquired, but he wouldn't speak to me." "You give him three roubles," whispered the porter. "I've given him two already." "Give him another." Voldyrev went back to the table and laid a green note on the open book. The clerk drew the book towards him again and began turning over the leaves, and all at once, as though by chance, lifted his eyes to Voldyrev. His nose began to shine, turned red, and wrinkled up in a grin. "Ah . . . what do you want?" he asked. "I want to make an inquiry in reference to my case. . . . My name is Voldyrev." "With pleasure! The Gugulin case, isn't it? Very good. What is it then exactly?" Voldyrev explained his business. The clerk became as lively as though he were whirled round by a hurricane. He gave the necessary information, arranged for a copy to be made, gave the petitioner a chair, and all in one instant. He even spoke about the weather and asked after the harvest. And when Voldyrev went away he accompanied him down the stairs, smiling affably and respectfully, and looking as though he were ready any minute to fall on his face before the gentleman. Voldyrev for some reason felt uncomfortable, and in obedience to some inward impulse he took a rouble out of his pocket and gave it to the clerk. And the latter kept bowing and smiling, and took the rouble like a conjuror, so that it seemed to flash through the air. "Well, what people!" thought the country gentleman as he went out into the street, and he stopped and mopped his brow with his handkerchief. MARTYRS