Filip Filippitch.”
“Ah, Filip Filippitch! It’s you ... very welcome.... But how is it you.... I don’t know ... please walk in.”
She was completely taken aback.
“Where? Here?
But there’s a partition here! No, you must give us a better reception.
We’ll have a drop of champagne. But aren’t there any little mam’zelles?”
The woman regained her confidence at once.
“Why, for such honoured guests I’d get them if I had to dig for them underground. I’d send for them from the kingdom of China.”
“Two words, Anna Trifonovna, darling; is Sizobryuhov here?
“Yes.”
“He’s just the man I want.
How dare he go off on the spree without me, the rascal?”
“I expect he has not forgotten you.
He seems expecting someone; it must be you.”
Masloboev pushed the door, and we found ourselves in a small room with two windows with geraniums in them, with wickerwork chairs, and a wretchedlooking piano; all as one would expect.
But even before we went in, while we were still talking in the passage, Mitroshka had disappeared.
I learned afterwards that he had not come in, but had been waiting behind the door.
He had someone to open it to him afterwards.
The dishevelled and painted woman I had seen peeping over Mme. Bubnov’s shoulder that morning was a pal of his.
Sizobryuhov was sitting on a skimpy little sofa of imitation mahogany, before a round table with a cloth on it.
On the table were two bottles of tepid champagne, and a bottle of horrible rum; and there were plates of sweets from the confectioner’s, biscuits, and nuts of three sorts.
At the table facing Sizobryuhov sat a repulsivelooking, pockmarked female of forty wearing a black taffeta dress and a bronze brooch and bracelets.
This was the “officer’s wife,” unmistakably a sham.
Sizobryuhov was drunk and perfectly satisfied.
His fat friend was nor with him.
“That’s how people behave!” Masloboev bawled at the top of his voice. “After inviting one to Dussot’s, too!”
“Filip Filippitch, doing us the pleasure?” muttered Sizobryuhov, getting up to meet us with a blissful air.
“Are you drinking?
“Excuse me.”
“Don’t apologize, but invite your guests to join you.
We’ve come to keep it up with you.
Here, I’ve brought a friend to join us.”
Masloboev pointed to me.
“Delighted, that is, you do me pleasure.... Kkkhe!”
“Ugh, do you call this champagne?
It’s more like kvas.”
“You insult me.”
“So you don’t dare show yourself at Dussot’s! And after inviting one!”
“He’s just been telling me he’s been in Paris,” put in the officer’s wife.
“He must be fibbing.”
“Fedosya Titishna, don’t insult me.
I have been there.
I’ve travelled.”
“A peasant like him in Paris!”
“We have been!
We could!
Me and Karp Vassilitch – we cut a dash there.
Do you know Karp Vassilitch?”
“What do I want with your Karp Vassilitch?”
“Why, it’s only just ... it might be worth your while.