“No useless words, if you please! I cannot endure that spy, scoundrel, rogue, your friend Pshekhotsky, and in the name of our close friendship I demand that he shall no longer be here, and instantly, too!”
“But what has he done to you?” the Count asked, much agitated. “Why are you attacking him?”
“I ask you again: me or him?”
“But, golubchik, you are placing me in a horribly awkward position.… Stop! There's a feather on your dress coat!… You are demanding the impossible from me!”
“Good-bye!” I said. “I am no longer acquainted with you.”
And turning sharply on my heel, I went into the anteroom, put on my overcoat, and hastened out of the house. When crossing the garden towards the servants' department, where I wanted to give the order to have my horse put to, I was stopped. Coming towards me with a small cup of coffee in her hand, I was met by Nadia Kalinin. She was also at Urbenin's wedding, but a sort of undefined fear had forced me to avoid speaking to her, and during the whole day I had not gone up to her, nor said a word to her.
“Sergey Petrovich!” she said in an unnaturally deep voice when in passing her I slightly raised my hat. “Stop!”
“What may your commands be?” I asked, as I came up to her.
“I have nothing to command.… Besides, you are no lackey,” she said, gazing straight into my eyes and becoming terribly pale. “You are hurrying somewhere, but if you have time might I detain you for a moment?”
“Certainly!… I can't understand why you ask it?…”