"And she doesn't hear this villain!" sighed Kukushkin. "My dear sir," he said theatrically, "I will relieve you from the burdensome obligation to love that adorable creature! I will wrest Zinaida Fyodorovna from you!" "You may ..." said Orlov carelessly. For half a minute Kukushkin laughed a shrill little laugh, shaking all over, then he said: "Look out; I am in earnest! Don't you play the Othello afterwards!" They all began talking of Kukushkin's indefatigable energy in love affairs, how irresistible he was to women, and what a danger he was to husbands; and how the devil would roast him in the other world for his immorality in this. He screwed up his eyes and remained silent, and when the names of ladies of their acquaintance were mentioned, he held up his little finger--as though to say they mustn't give away other people's secrets. Orlov suddenly looked at his watch. His friends understood, and began to take their leave. I remember that Gruzin, who was a little drunk, was wearisomely long in getting off. He put on his coat, which was cut like children's coats in poor families, pulled up the collar, and began telling some long-winded story; then, seeing he was not listened to, he flung the rug that smelt of the nursery over one shoulder, and with a guilty and imploring face begged me to find his hat. "_George_, my angel," he said tenderly. "Do as I ask you, dear boy; come out of town with us!" "You can go, but I can't. I am in the position of a married man now." "She is a dear, she won't be angry. My dear chief, come along! It's glorious weather; there's snow and frost.... Upon my word, you want shaking up a bit; you are out of humour. I don't know what the devil is the matter with you...." Orlov stretched, yawned, and looked at Pekarsky. "Are you going?" he said, hesitating. "I don't know. Perhaps." "Shall I get drunk? All right, I'll come," said Orlov after some hesitation. "Wait a minute; I'll get some money." He went into the study, and Gruzin slouched in, too, dragging his rug after him. A minute later both came back into the hall. Gruzin, a little drunk and very pleased, was crumpling a ten-rouble note in his hands. "We'll settle up to-morrow," he said. "And she is kind, she won't be cross.... She is my Lisotchka's godmother; I am fond of her, poor thing! Ah, my dear fellow!" he laughed joyfully, and pressing his forehead on Pekarsky's back. "Ah, Pekarsky, my dear soul! Advocatissimus--as dry as a biscuit, but you bet he is fond of women...." "Fat ones," said Orlov, putting on his fur coat. "But let us get off, or we shall be meeting her on the doorstep." "_'Vieni pensando a me segretamente,'_" hummed Gruzin. At last they drove off: Orlov did not sleep at home, and returned next day at dinner-time. VI