he should meet this man now with no anger at all, and that there was something quite different in his feelings for him at that moment and even a sort of urge for something new.
“Such a pleasant evening,” Pavel Pavlovich said, peeking into his eyes.
“You haven’t left yet?” Velchaninov said, as if he were not asking but merely pondering, and continued to walk.
“I had a slow time of it, but—I got the post, sir, with a promotion. I’ll be leaving for certain the day after tomorrow.”
“You got the post?” he did ask this time.
“And why not, sir?” Pavel Pavlovich’s face suddenly twisted.
“I said it just…” Velchaninov dodged and, frowning, looked at Pavel Pavlovich out of the corner of his eye. To his surprise, the clothing, the hat with crape, and the whole appearance of Mr. Trusotsky were incomparably more decent than two weeks before. “Why was he sitting in that pub?” he kept thinking.
“I was meaning to tell you, Alexei Ivanovich, about another joy of mine,” Pavel Pavlovich began again.
“Joy?”
“I’m getting married, sir.”
“What?”
“Joy follows grief, sir, it’s always so in life. Alexei Ivanovich, sir, I’d like very much… but—I don’t know, maybe you’re in a hurry now, because you look as if…”
“Yes, I’m in a hurry and… yes, I’m not well.”
He suddenly wanted terribly to get away; the readiness for some new feeling instantly vanished.
“And I would have liked, sir…”
Pavel Pavlovich did not finish saying what he would have liked; Velchaninov kept silent.
“Afterward, then, sir, if only we meet…”
“Yes, yes, afterward, afterward,” Velchaninov muttered rapidly, not looking at him or stopping. They were silent for another minute; Pavel Pavlovich went on walking beside him.
“In that case, good-bye, sir,” he spoke finally. “Good-bye. I wish you…”
Velchaninov returned home thoroughly upset again. The encounter with “this man” was too much for him. Going to bed, he thought again: “Why was he near the cemetery?”
The next morning he made up his mind; sympathy from anyone, even the Pogoreltsevs, was much too heavy for him now. But they were so worried about him that he absolutely had to go. He suddenly imagined that he would be very embarrassed for some reason on first meeting them. “To go or not to go?” he thought, hurrying to finish his breakfast, when suddenly, to his extreme amazement, Pavel Pavlovich walked in.
Despite yesterday’s encounter, Velchaninov could never have imagined that this man might someday call on him again, and he was so taken aback that he stared at him without knowing what to say. But Pavel Pavlovich took things in hand, greeted him, and sat down in the same chair he had sat in three weeks earlier during his last visit. Velchaninov suddenly remembered that visit especially vividly. Uneasily and with disgust, he looked at his visitor.
“Surprised, sir?” Pavel Pavlovich began, divining Velchaninov’s gaze.
Generally he seemed much more casual than the day before, and at the same time it could be seen that his timidity was greater. His external appearance was especially curious. Mr. Trusotsky was dressed not only decently but stylishly—in a light summer jacket, tight-fitting, light-colored trousers, a light-colored waistcoat; gloves, a gold lorgnette, which for some reason suddenly appeared, linen—all impeccable; he even smelled of perfume. There was in his whole figure something at once ridiculous and suggestive of some strange and unpleasant thought.
“Of course, Alexei Ivanovich,” he went on, cringing, “I surprised you by coming, sir, and—I can feel it, sir. But between people, so I think, sir, there always remains—and, in my opinion, must remain—something higher, don’t you think, sir? That is, higher with regard to all conventions and even the very unpleasantnesses that may come of it… don’t you think, sir?”
“Pavel Pavlovich, say it all quickly and without ceremony,” Velchaninov frowned.
“In two words, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich hurried, “I’m getting married and am presently going to my fiancee, right now. They’re also in the country, sir. I wished to be granted the profound honor, so as to dare acquaint you with this family, sir, and I’ve come with an exceptional request” (Pavel Pavlovich humbly bowed his head), “to ask you to accompany me, sir…”
“Accompany you where?” Velchaninov goggled his eyes.
“To them, sir, that is, to their country house, sir. Forgive me, I’m speaking as if in a fever and may have become confused; but I’m so afraid you’ll say no, sir…”
And he looked lamentably at Velchaninov.
“You want me to go with you now to your fiancee?” Velchaninov repeated, casting a quick glance over him and believing neither his ears nor his eyes.
“Yes, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich suddenly grew terribly timid. “Don’t be angry, Alexei Ivanovich, this isn’t boldness, sir; I only beg you most humbly and exceptionally. I dreamed that you might perhaps not want to say no to me in this…”
“First of all, it’s utterly impossible,” Velchaninov squirmed uneasily.
“It’s just my exceeding wish and nothing more, sir,” the man went on imploring. “I also won’t conceal that there is a reason as well, sir. But about this reason I would like to reveal only later, sir, and now I only beg exceptionally…”
