"Herr Fischelowitz?" inquired the larger of the two customers, touching his hat but not removing it.
"At your service," answered the tobacconist. "Cigarettes?" he inquired. "Strong? Light? Kir, Samson, Dubec?"
"I am the new Russian Consul," said the stranger. "This gentleman is just arrived from Petersburg and has business with you."
"My name is Konstantin Grabofsky, and I am a lawyer," observed the little man very sharply.
Fischelowitz bowed till his nose almost came into collision with the counter. The others in the shop held their peace and opened their eyes.
"And I am told that Count Boris Michaelovitch Skariatine is here," continued the lawyer.
"Oh—the mad Count!" exclaimed Akulina with an angry laugh, and coming forward. "Yes, we can tell you all about him."
"I am sorry," said Grabofsky, "to hear you call him mad, since my business is with him, Barina, and not with you." His tone was, if possible, more incisive than before.
"Of course, we know that he is not a Count at all," said Akulina, somewhat annoyed by his sharpness.
"Do you? Then you are singularly mistaken. I shall be obliged if you will inform Count Skariatine that Konstantin Grabofsky desires the honour of an interview with him."