Having kissed his daughter again and smiled sweetly on the beau-monde, he frowned fiercely, and turning sharply round on one heel, towards a muzhik wearing the disc of a foreman, he said hoarsely to him:
“When will they allow my carriage to drive up?”
The muzhik became excited and waved his arms.
“Look out!”
The crowd that was following the procession made way and the carriage of the Justice of the Peace drove up with chic and the sound of bells to where Kalinin was standing. He sat down, bowed majestically, and alarming the crowd by his “Look out!” he disappeared from sight without casting a single glance at me.
“What a majestic swine!” I whispered in the doctor's ear. “Come along!”
“Don't you want to say a word to Nadezhda Nicolaevna?” Pavel Ivanovich asked:
“It's time for me to go home. I'm in a hurry.”
The doctor looked at me angrily, sighed, and turned away. I made a general bow and went towards the booths. As I was making my way through the dense crowd, I turned to look back at the Justice's daughter. She was looking after me and appeared to be trying whether I could bear her pure, searching gaze, so full of bitter injury and reproach.
Her eyes said: “Why?”