"Well, why were you talking about that?" asked the major, taking out his watch and consulting it, though I verily believe there was not the slightest necessity of his doing so. "Well,[18] he asked me why I served here." "Of course, Nikoláï Feódorovitch wants to win distinction here, and then go home." "Well, now, you tell us, Abram Ilyitch, why you serve in the Caucasus." "I? Because, as you know, in the first place we are all in duty bound to serve. What?" he added, though no one spoke. "Yesterday evening I received a letter from Russia, Nikoláï Feódorovitch," he continued, eager to change the conversation. "They write me that ... what strange questions are asked!" "What sort of questions?" asked Bolkhof. He blushed. "Really, now, strange questions ... they write me, asking, 'Can there be jealousy without love?' ... What?" he asked, looking at us all. "How so?" said Bolkhof, smiling. "Well, you know, in Russia it's a good thing," he continued, as though his phrases followed each other in perfectly logical sequence. "When I was at Tambof in '52 I was invited everywhere, as though I were on the emperor's suite. Would you believe me, at a ball at the governor's, when I got there ... well, don't you know, I was received very cordially. The governor's wife[19] herself, you know, talked with me, and asked me about the Caucasus; and so did all the rest ... why, I don't know ... they looked at my gold cap as though it were some sort of curiosity, and they asked me how I had won it, and how about the Anna and the Vladímir; and I told them all about it.... What? That's why the Caucasus is good, Nikoláï Feódorovitch," he continued, not waiting for a response. "There they look on us Caucasians very kindly. A young man, you know, a staff-officer with the Anna and Vladímir,--that means a great deal in Russia. What?" "You boasted a little, I imagine, Abram Ilyitch," said Bolkhof. "He-he," came his silly little laugh in reply. "You know, you have to. Yes, and didn't I feed royally those two months!" "So it is fine in Russia, is it?" asked Trosenko, asking about Russia as though it were China or Japan. "Yes, indeed![20] We drank so much champagne there in those two months, that it was a terror!" "The idea! you?[21] You drank lemonade probably. I should have died to show them how the _Kavkázets_ drinks. The glory has not been won for nothing. I would show them how we drink.... Hey, Bolkhof?" he added. "Yes, you see, you have been already ten years in the Caucasus, uncle," said Bolkhof, "and you remember what Yermolof said; but Abram Ilyitch has been here only six." ... "Ten years, indeed! almost sixteen." "Let us have some _salvia,_ Bolkhof: it's raw, b-rr! What?" he added, smiling, "shall we drink, major?" But the major was out of sorts, on account of the old captain's behavior to him at first; and now he evidently retired into himself, and took refuge in his own greatness. He began to hum some song, and again looked at his watch.