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‘Why this gleefulness?’ asked Fustov.

‘Why? Wouldn’t you like to know, eh?’ Viktor drew us a little aside, and pulling out of his trouser-pocket a whole bundle of the red and blue notes then in use waved them in the air.

Fustov was surprised.

‘Has your governor been so liberal?’

Viktor chuckled.

‘He liberal! You just try it on!… This morning, relying on your intercession, I asked him for cash. What do you suppose the old skinflint answered? “I’ll pay your debts,” says he, “if you like. Up to twenty-five roubles inclusive!” Do you hear, inclusive! No, sir, this was a gift from God in my destitution. A lucky chance.’

‘Been robbing someone?’ Fustov hazarded carelessly.

Viktor frowned.

‘Robbing, no indeed! I won it, won it from an officer, a guardsman. He only arrived from Petersburg yesterday. Such a chain of circumstances! It’s worth telling… only this isn’t the place. Come along to Yar’s; not a couple of steps. I’ll stand the show, as I said!’

We ought, perhaps, to have refused; but we followed without making any objection.

XV

At Yar’s we were shown into a private room; supper was served, champagne was brought. Viktor related to us, omitting no detail, how he had in a certain ‘gay’ house met this officer of the guards, a very nice chap and of good family, only without a hap’orth of brains; how they had made friends, how he, the officer that is, had suggested as a joke a game of ‘fools’ with Viktor with some old cards, for next to nothing, and with the condition that the officer’s winnings should go to the benefit of Wilhelmina, but Viktor’s to his own benefit; how afterwards they had got on to betting on the games.

‘And I, and I,’ cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped his hands, ‘I hadn’t more than six roubles in my pocket all the while. Fancy! And at first I was completely cleaned out…. A nice position! Only then–in answer to whose prayers I can’t say–fortune smiled. The other fellow began to get hot and kept showing all his cards…. In no time he’d lost seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began begging me to go on playing, but I’m not quite a fool, I fancy; no, one mustn’t abuse such luck; I popped on my hat and cut away. So now I’ve no need to eat humble pie with the governor, and can treat my friends…. Hi waiter! Another bottle! Gentlemen, let’s clink glasses!’

We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and laughing with him, though his story was by no means to our liking, nor was his society a source of any great satisfaction to us either. He began being very affable, playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he was making on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became more disconnected and his looks gloomier. He began yawning, announced that he was sleepy, and after swearing with his characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a badly cleaned pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging expression on his distorted face.

‘I say, Alexander Daviditch,’ said he, ‘you tell me, if you please, what do you look down on me for?’

‘How so?’ My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply.

‘I’ll tell you how…. I’m very well aware that you look down on me, and that person does too’ (he pointed at me with his finger), ‘so there! As though you were yourself remarkable for such high and exalted principles, and weren’t just as much a sinner as the rest of us. Worse even. Still waters… you know the proverb?’

Fustov turned rather red.

‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked.

‘Why, I mean that I’m not blind yet, and I see very clearly everything that’s going on under my nose…. And I have nothing against it: first it’s not my principle to interfere, and secondly, my sister Susanna Ivanovna hasn’t always been so exemplary herself…. Only, why look down on me?’