“Dolgorowky?” 19 he repeated in the same tone and the same voice.
“No, not Korovkin,” I replied just as abruptly, having misheard.
“Dolgorowky?! ” the long one almost shouted, repeating himself, and coming at me almost menacingly. His comrade burst out laughing.
“He’s saying Dolgorowky, not Korovkin,” he clarified. “You know how the French in the Journal des débats often distort Russian last names . . .”
“In the Indépendance,” 20 the long one grunted.
“. . . Well, in the Indépendance, too, it makes no difference. Dolgoruky, for instance, is written Dolgorowky, I’ve read it myself, and V—v is always Comte Wallonie f.”
“Doboyny! ” cried the long one.
“Yes, there’s also some Doboyny. I read it myself and we both laughed: some Russian Mme. Doboyny, abroad . . . only, you see, why mention them all?” he suddenly turned to the long one.
“Excuse me, are you Mr. Dolgoruky?”
“Yes, I’m Dolgoruky, but how do you know?”
The long one suddenly whispered something to the pretty boy, who frowned and made a negative gesture; but the long one suddenly turned to me:
“Monsieur le prince, vous n’avez pas de rouble d’argent pour nous, pas deux, mais un seul, voulez-vous?”71
“Ah, how vile you are!” cried the boy.
“Nous vous rendons,”72 the long one concluded, pronouncing the French words crudely and awkwardly.
“He’s a cynic, you know,” the boy smiled to me. “And do you think he doesn’t know how to speak French? He speaks like a Parisian, and he’s only mocking those Russians who want to speak French aloud among themselves in society, but don’t know how . . .”
“Dans les wagons,”73 the long one clarified.
“Well, yes, in railway carriages, too—ah, what a bore you are, there’s nothing to clarify! A nice fancy to pretend you’re a fool.”
Meanwhile I took out a rouble and offered it to the long one.
“Nous vous rendons,” the man said, pocketing the rouble, and, suddenly turning to the door, with a perfectly immobile and serious face he began banging on it with the toe of his enormous, crude boot and, above all, without the slightest irritation.
“Ah, you’re going to have a fight with Lambert again!” the boy observed uneasily. “You’d better ring!”
I rang, but the long one still went on banging with his boot.
“Ah, sacré . . .”74; Lambert’s voice suddenly came from behind the door, and he quickly opened it.
“Dites donc, voulez-vous que je vous casse la tête, mon ami!”
“Mon ami, voilà Dolgorowky, l’autre mon ami,” 75 the long one pronounced importantly and seriously, looking point-blank at Lambert, who had turned red with anger. As soon as he saw me, he was as if all transformed at once.
“It’s you, Arkady! At last! So you’re well now, you’re well at last?”
He seized me by the hands, pressing them hard; in short, he was so sincerely delighted that I instantly felt terribly pleased, and even began to like him.
“You’re the first one I’m calling on!”
“Alphonsine!” cried Lambert.
The woman instantly leaped out from behind the screen.
“Le voilà!”76
“C’est lui!”77 exclaimed Alphonsine, clasping her hands, and, spreading them wide again, she rushed to embrace me, but Lambert came to my defense.
“No, no, no, down!” he shouted at her as if she were a puppy. “You see, Arkady, a few of us fellows have arranged to have dinner at the Tartar’s today. I won’t let you off, come with us. We’ll have dinner; I’ll chase these boys out at once—and then we can talk as much as we like. But do come in! We’re leaving right away, just stay for a little minute . . .”
I went in and stood in the middle of that room, looking around and remembering. Lambert was hastily changing his clothes behind the screen. The long one and his comrade also came in with us, despite Lambert’s words. We all remained standing.
“Mlle. Alphonsine, voulez-vous me baiser?”78 the long one grunted.
“Mlle. Alphonsine,” the younger one made a movement, pointing to the little tie, but she fell fiercely on them both.
“Ah, le petit vilain! ” she cried to the younger one. “Ne m’approcher pas, ne me salissez pas, et vous, le grand dadais, je vous flanque à la porte tous les deux, savez-vous cela!” 79;
The younger one, in spite of her waving him away scornfully and squeamishly, as if she really was afraid to dirty herself by touching him (which I couldn’t understand, because he was so pretty and turned out to be so well dressed when he threw off his fur coat)—the younger one began begging her insistently to tie the necktie on his long friend, after first tying one of Lambert’s clean collars on him. She almost started beating them, she was so indignant at this suggestion, but Lambert, having heard it, cried to her from behind the screen that she shouldn’t hamper them and should do as she was asked, “otherwise they won’t leave you alone,” he added, and Alphonsine instantly seized the collar and began tying it on the long one, now without the slightest squeamishness. Just as on the stairs, the man stretched his neck out for her while she tied it.
“Mlle. Alphonsine, avez-vous vendu votre bologne?”80 he asked.
“Qu’est-ce que ça, ma bologne?”81
The younger one explained that ma bologne signified her little Bolognese lap dog.
“Tiens, quel est ce baragouin?”82
“Je parle comme une dame russe sur les eaux minérales,”83; observed le grand dadais, his neck still stretched out.
“Qu’est-ce que ça qu’une dame russe sure les eaux minérales et . . . où est donc votre jolie montre, que Lambert vous a donné?”
“What, no watch again?” Lambert echoed irritably from behind the screen.
“We ate it up!” le grand dadais grunted.
“I sold it for eight roubles. It was gilded silver, and you told me it was gold. Ones like that, in a shop now, cost only sixteen roubles,” the younger one replied to Lambert, justifying himself with reluctance.
“We must put an end to this!” Lambert went on still more irritably. “I don’t buy you clothes, my young friend, and give you beautiful things, so that you can waste it all on your long friend . . . What’s this tie you’ve bought?”
“That was only a rouble; it wasn’t yours. He didn’t have any tie at all, and he still needs to buy a hat.”
“Nonsense!” Lambert was now angry indeed. “I gave him enough for a hat as well, and he up and bought oysters and champagne. He smells; he’s a sloven; he can’t be taken anywhere. How can I take him to dinner?”
“In a cab,” the dadais grunted. “Nous avons un rouble d’argent que nous avons prêté chez notre nouvel ami.”84
“Don’t give them anything, Arkady!” Lambert cried again.
“Excuse me, Lambert, I demand outright that you give me ten roubles here and now,” the boy suddenly became angry and even turned all red, which made him twice as good-looking, “and don’t you ever dare to say foolish things, as you just did to Dolgoruky. I demand ten roubles, one rouble to give back to Dolgoruky right now, and the rest to buy Andreev a hat at once—you’ll see for yourself.”
Lambert came from behind the screen:
“Here’s three yellow notes, three roubles, and nothing more till Tuesday, and don’t you dare . . . or else . . .”
Le grand dadais snatched the money from him.
“Dolgorowky, here’s the rouble, nous vous rendons avec beaucoup de grâce.85 Petya, let’s go!” he cried to his comrade, and then, holding up the two notes, waving them and looking point-blank at Lambert, he suddenly screamed with all his might: