"I thought you knew Captain Durescq when he was here last year," said Devinsky. "But you may have forgotten."
"Good evening, Captain Durescq," said I, ignoring Devinsky and returning the other man's greeting. "What is the latest war news in St Petersburg?"
"Bad for those who do not like fighting," he said, looking at me in a way that turned this to a personal insult.
"But good perhaps, for those soldiers whose swords are to hire," I returned, with a smile which did not make my point less plain.
The man's eyes flashed.
"They will take the place of your friends who do not like the fighting," I added; and at this all about us grew suddenly silent.
"My friends? How do you mean?" asked Durescq stiffly.
"Those you mentioned in your first sentence. Whom else should I mean?" and I let my eye rest as if by accident on Devinsky.
"You have a singular manner of expressing yourself, Lieutenant."
"We provincials do not always copy the manners of the capital, you know," I returned in my pleasantest manner. "I think the provinces are growing more and more independent every year. We arrange our own affairs in our own way, have our own etiquette, form our own associations, and settle our own quarrels without aid from the capital."