“Congratulate me,” he said, giggling, as he took my arm.
“What on?”
“On my conquest.… One more ride like this, and I swear by the ashes of my noble ancestors I shall tear the petals from this flower.”
“You have not torn them off yet?”
“As yet?… Almost! During ten minutes, ‘Thy hand in my hand,’ ” the Count sang, “and … not once did she draw it away.… I kissed it! Wait for to-morrow. Now let us go. They are expecting me. Oh, by-the-by, golubchek, I want to talk to you about something. Tell me, old man, is it true what people say—that you are … that you entertain evil intentions with regard to Nadenka Kalinin?”
“Why?”
“If that were true, I won't come in your way. It's not in my principles to put a spoke in another's wheels. If, however, you have no sort of intentions, then of course——”
“I have none.”
“Merci, my soul!”
The Count thought of killing two hares at the same time, and was firmly convinced that he would succeed. On the evening I am describing I watched the chase of these two hares. The chase was stupid and as comical as a good caricature. When watching it one could only laugh or be revolted at the Count's vulgarity, but nobody could have thought that this schoolboy chase would end with the moral fall of some, the ruin and the crimes of others!