"Well, I don't know about that," said Nekhludoff. "I went there
twice, and felt very much depressed."
"Do you know, you ought to get acquainted with the Countess
Passek," continued Maslennikoff, growing talkative. "She has
given herself up entirely to this sort of work. Elle fait
beaucoup de bien. Thanks to her--and, perhaps I may add without
false modesty, to me--everything has been changed, changed in
such a way that the former horrors no longer exist, and they are
really quite comfortable there. Well, you'll see. There's
Fanarin. I do not know him personally; besides, my social
position keeps our ways apart; but he is positively a bad man,
and besides, he takes the liberty of saying such things in the
court--such things!"
"Well, thank you," Nekhludoff said, taking the paper, and without
listening further he bade good-day to his former comrade.
"And won't you go in to see my wife?"
"No, pray excuse me; I have no time now."
"Dear me, why she will never forgive me," said Maslennikoff,
accompanying his old acquaintance down to the first landing, as
he was in the habit of doing to persons of not the greatest, but
the second greatest importance, with whom he classed Nekhludoff;
"now do go in, if only for a moment."
But Nekhludoff remained firm; and while the footman and the
door-keeper rushed to give him his stick and overcoat, and opened
the door, outside of which there stood a policeman, Nekhludoff
repeated that he really could not come in.
"Well, then; on Thursday, please. It is her 'at-home.' I will
tell her you will come," shouted Maslennikoff from the stairs.