“_What!_ is _that_ all?” cried Velchaninoff, bursting into an angry laugh; “good heavens, man, you have done nothing but surprise me all day.” He had begun in a tone of exasperation, but he now abruptly changed both voice and expression, and continued with an air of deep feeling. “Listen,” he said, “listen to me. I don’t think I have ever felt so deeply humiliated as I am feeling now, in consequence of the events of to-day. In the first place, that I should have condescended to go down with you at all, and in the second place, all that happened there. It has been such a day of pettifogging—pitiful pettifogging. I have profaned and lowered myself by taking a share in it all, and forgetting——Well, it’s done now. But look here—you fell upon me to-day, unawares—upon a sick man. Oh, you needn’t excuse yourself; at all events I shall certainly _not_ go there again. I have not the slightest interest in so doing,” he concluded, with an air of decision. “No, really!” cried Pavel Pavlovitch, making no secret of his delight and exultation. Velchaninoff glanced contemptuously at him, and recommenced his march up and down the room. “You have determined to be happy under any circumstances, I suppose?” he observed, after a pause. He could not resist making the remark disdainfully. “Yes, I have,” said Pavel, quietly. “It’s no business of mine that he’s a fool and a knave, out of pure idiocy!” thought Velchaninoff. “I can’t help hating him, though I feel that he is not even worth hating.” “I’m a permanent husband,” said Pavel Pavlovitch, with the most exquisitely servile irony, at his own expense. “I remember you using that expression, Alexey Ivanovitch, long ago, when you were with us at T——. I remember many of your original phrases of that time, and when you spoke of ‘permanent husbands,’ the other day, I recollected the expression.” At this point Mavra entered the room with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “Forgive me, Alexey Ivanovitch,” said Pavel, “you know I can’t get on without it. Don’t consider it an audacity on my part—think of it as a mere bit of by-play unworthy your notice.” “Well,” consented Velchaninoff, with a look of disgust, “but I must remind you that I don’t feel well, and that—” “One little moment—I’ll go at once, I really will—I _must_ just drink _one_ glass, my throat is so——” He seized the bottle eagerly, and poured himself out a glass, drank it greedily at a gulp, and sat down. He looked at Velchaninoff almost tenderly. “What a nasty looking beast!” muttered the latter to himself. “It’s all her friends that make her like that,” said Pavel, suddenly, with animation. “What? Oh, you refer to the lady. I——” “And, besides, she is so very young still, you see,” resumed Pavel. “I shall be her slave—she shall see a little society, and a bit of the world. She will change, sir, entirely.”