Despite his simulated ease, Sarudine looked obviously anxious. He felt

that he ought not to have come. He dreaded meeting Lida, yet he could

on no account let Volochine see this, to whom he wished to pose as a

gay Lothario.

"Dear Maria Ivanovna," began Sarudine, smiling affectedly, "allow me to

introduce to you my good friend, Paul Lvovitch Volochine."

"Charmed!" said Maria Ivanovna, with frigid politeness, and Sarudine

observed the hostile look in her eyes, which somewhat unnerved him. "We

ought not to have come," he thought, at last aware of the fact, which

in Volochine's society he had forgotten. Lida might come in at any

moment, Lida, the mother of his child; what should he say to her? How

should he look her in the face? Perhaps her mother knew all? He

fidgeted nervously on his chair; lit a cigarette, shrugged his

shoulders, moved his legs, and looked about him right and left.

"Are you making a long stay?" asked Maria Ivanovna of Volochine, in a

cold, formal voice.

"Oh! no," he replied, as he stared complacently at this provincial

person, thrusting his cigar into the corner of his mouth so that the

smoke rose right into her face.

"It must be rather dull for you, here, after Petersburg."

"On the contrary, I think it is delightful. There is something so

patriarchal about this little town."

"You ought to visit the environs, which are charming for excursions and

picnics. There's boating and bathing, too."

"Of course, madam, of course!" drawled Volochine, who was already

somewhat bored.

The conversation languished, and they all seemed to be wearing smiling

masks behind which lurked hostile eyes. Volochine winked at Sarudine in

the most unmistakable manner; and this was not lost upon Sanine, who

from his corner was watching them closely.

The thought that Volochine would no longer regard him as a smart,

dashing, dare-devil sort of fellow gave Sarudine some of his old

assurance.

"And where is Lidia Petrovna?" he asked carelessly.

Maria Ivanovna looked at him in surprise and anger. Her eyes seemed to

say: "What is that to you, since you are not going to marry her?"

"I don't know. Probably in her room," she coldly replied.

Volochine shot another glance at his companion.

"Can't you manage to make Lida come down quickly?" it said. "This old

woman's becoming a bore."

Sarudine opened his mouth and feebly twisted his moustache.

"I have heard so many flattering things about your daughter," began

Volochine, smiling, and rubbing his hands, as he bent forward to Maria

Ivanovna, "that I hope to have the honour of being introduced to her."




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