' 'You never were on good terms with Zverkov,' Trudolyubov added, frowning.
'But I had already grabbed at the idea and would not give it up.
' 'It seems to me that no one has a right to form an opinion upon that,' I retorted in a shaky voice, as though something tremendous had happened. 'Perhaps that is just my reason for wishing it now, that I have not always been on good terms with him.'
' 'Oh, there's no making you out—with all these refinements,' Trudolyubov jeered.
' 'We'll put your name down,' Simonov decided, addressing me. 'Tomorrow at five o'clock at the Hotel de Paris.' '
That night the mouseman dreams of his school days, a generalized dream that would not do in a modern case-history. Next morning he polished his boots after his servant Apollon had cleaned them once already. Wet snow is symbolically falling in thick flakes. He arrives at the restaurant and learns that they had changed the dinner hour from five to six and nobody had troubled to inform him. Here begins the accumulation of humiliations. Finally the three schoolfellows and Zverkov, the guest, arrive. What follows is one of the best scenes in Dostoevski. He had a wonderful flair for comedy mixed with tragedy; he may be termed a very wonderful humorist, with the humor always on the verge of hysterics and people hurting each other in a wild exchange of insults. A typical Dostoevskian row starts:
' 'Tell me, are you ... in a government office?' Zverkov went on being attentive to me. Seeing that I was embarrassed, he seriously thought that he ought to be friendly to me, and, so to speak, cheer me up.
''Does he want me to throw a bottle at his head?' I thought, in a rage. In my novel surroundings I was unnaturally ready to be irritated.
' 'In the N------office,' I answered jerkily, with my eyes on my plate.
' 'And ha-ave you a goo-ood berth? I say, what ma-a-de you leave your original job?'
'What ma-a-de me was that I wanted to leave my original job,' I drawled more than he, hardly able to control myself.
Ferfichkin went off into a guffaw. Simonov looked at me sarcastically. Trudolyubov left off eating and began looking at me with curiosity.
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'Zverkov winced, but he tried not to notice anything.
' 'And the remuneration?'
' 'What remuneration?'
' T mean your sa-a-lary?'
'Why are you cross-examining me?' However, I told him at once what my salary was. I turned horribly red.
'It's not very handsome,' Zverkov observed majestically. ' 'Yes, you can't afford to dine at cafes on that,' Ferfichkin added insolently.
''To my thinking it's very poor,' Trudolyubov observed gravely. ' 'And how thin you have grown! How you have changed!'
added Zverkov, with a shade of venom in his voice, scanning me and my attire with a sort of insolent compassion.
''Oh, spare his blushes,' cried Ferfichkin, sniggering. ' 'My dear Sir, allow me to tell you I am not blushing,' I broke out at last:
'Do you hear? I am dining here, at this cafe, at my own expense, not at other people's—note that, Mr. Ferfichkin.'
'Wha-at? Isn't everyone here dining at his own expense? You seem to be------' Ferfichkin turned on me, becoming as red as a lobster and looking me in the face with fury.
''We won't go into tha-at,' I mimicked in answer, feeling I had gone too far. 'And I imagine it would be better to talk of something more intelligent.'
''You intend to show off your intelligence, I suppose?'
''Don't upset yourself; that would be quite out of place here.'
''Why are you jabbering away like that, my good Sir? eh? Have you gone out of your wits in your office?'
' 'Enough, gentlemen, enough!' Zverkov cried authoritatively.
'How stupid all this is!' muttered Simonov. ' 'It really is stupid. We've met here, a party of friends, for a farewell dinner to a comrade, and you carry on a fight,' said Trudolyubov, rudely addressing himself to me alone. 'You invited yourself to join us, so don't disturb the general harmony.'
'... No one paid any attention to me, and I sat crushed and humiliated.
''Good Heavens, these are not the people for me!' I thought. 'And what a fool I have made of myself before them! . . . But what's the use! I must get up at once, this very minute, take my hat and simply go without a word —with contempt! The scoundrels! As though I cared about the seven rubles. They may think. . . . Damn it! I don't care about the seven rubles. I'll go this minute!'
'Of course I remained. I drank sherry and Lafitte by the glassful in my discomfiture. Being unaccustomed to it, I was quickly affected. My annoyance increased as the wine went to my head. I longed all of a sudden to insult them all in a most flagrant manner and then go away. To seize the moment and show what I could do, so that they would say: 'He's clever, though he's absurd,' and . . . and ... in fact, damn them all! . . .
' 'Why, aren't you going to drink the toast?' roared Trudolyubov, losing patience and turning menacingly to me. . . .
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' 'Lieutenant Zverkov, Sir,' I began, 'let me tell you that I hate phrases, phrasemongers, and men who wear corsets—that's the first point, and there's a second one to follow it.'
'There was a general stir.
' 'The second point is: I hate loose talk and loose talkers. Especially loose talkers! The third point: I love justice, truth, and honesty.' I went on almost mechanically, for I was beginning to shiver with horror myself and had no idea how I had come to be talking like this. T love thought, Monsieur Zverkov; I love true comradeship, on an equal footing and not—h'm! I love—but, however, why not? I'll drink your health, too, Monsieur Zverkov. Seduce the Circassian girls, shoot the enemies of the fatherland, and—and here's to your health, Monsieur Zverkov!'
'Zverkov got up from his seat, bowed to me, and said:
' 'I'm very much obliged to you.' He was frightfully offended and had turned pale.
' 'Damn the fellow!' roared Trudolyubov, bringing his fist down on the table.
' 'Well, he ought to get a punch in the nose for that,' squealed Ferfichkin.
' 'We ought to turn him out,' muttered Simonov.
' 'Not a word, gentlemen, not a move!'cried Zverkov gravely, checking the general indignation. T thank you all, but I am able to show him myself how much value I attach to his words.'
' 'Mr. Ferfichkin, you will give me satisfaction tomorrow for your words just now!' I said aloud, turning with dignity to Ferfichkin.
' 'A duel, you mean? Certainly,' he answered. But probably I was so ridiculous as I challenged him, and it was so out of keeping with my appearance, that everyone, including Ferfichkin, was prostrate with laughter.
' 'Yes, let him alone, of course! He's quite drunk,' Trudolyubov said with disgust. ... I was so harassed, so exhausted, that I would have cut my throat to put an end to it. I was in a fever; my hair soaked with perspiration, stuck to my forehead and temples.
' 'Zverkov, I beg your pardon,' I said abruptly and resolutely. 'Ferfichkin, yours, too, and everyone's, everyone's; I have insulted you all!'
' 'Aha! A duel is not in your line, old man,' Ferfichkin got out venomously through clenched teeth.
'It sent a sharp pang to my heart.
' 'No, it's not the duel I'm afraid of, Ferfichkin! I'm ready to fight you tomorrow, after we're reconciled. I insist upon it, in fact, and you cannot refuse. I want to show you that I am not afraid of a duel. You'll fire first and I'll fire into the air.' . . .
