“With all my heart, for then I’m somebody,” replied McShane.
“You?” replied the courier.
“I mean my master,” returned McShane, correcting himself; “for he’s an officer, and a good one, too.”
“Yes, that may be; but you said yourself,” replied the courier, laughing. “My good friend, a valet to any one in Petersburg is no better than one of the mujiks who work in the streets. Well, I know that our master is an officer, and of high rank; as for his political opinions, I have never heard him express any, except his admiration of the city, and of course of the emperor.”
“Most decidedly; and of the empress also,” replied McShane.
“That is not at all necessary,” continued Dimitri, laughing. “In fact, he has no business to admire the empress.”
“But he admires the government and the laws,” said McShane; “and you may add, my good fellow—the army and the navy—by the powers, he’s all admiration, all over!—you may take my word for it.”
“Well, I will do so; but then there is one other question to reply to, which is, why did he come here? what is his business?”
“To look about him, to be sure; to spend his money like a gentleman; to give his letters of introduction; and to amuse himself,” replied McShane. “But this is dry talking, so, Dimitri, order a bottle of champagne, and then we’ll wet our whistle before we go on.”
“Champagne! will your master stand that?” inquired Dimitri.