“A very dangerous thing: madness often begins in that way.”
The valet went off in a fury to his room, which was next to his master’s bedroom. There he read the Moscow Gazette and made wigs for sale. Probably to relieve his feelings, he took snuff furiously, and the snuff was so strong or the membrane of his nose so weak, that he always sneezed six or seven times after a pinch.
The master’s bell rang and the valet threw down the hair in his hands and answered the bell.
“Is that you sneezing?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then, bless you!”—and a motion of the hand dismissed the valet.
§11
On the eve of each Ash Wednesday all the servants came, according to the old custom, to ask pardon of their master for offences; and on these solemn occasions my father came into the drawing-room accompanied by his valet. He always pretended that he could not recognise some of the people.
“Who is that decent old man, standing in that corner?” he would ask the valet.
“Danilo, the coachman,” was the impatient answer; for Nikita knew this was all play-acting.