Velchaninoff stood for several minutes in one spot, just as he had done after Pavel Pavlovitch's first visit.
“It's merely a drunken sally—nothing more!” he muttered. “Absolutely nothing further!” he repeated, when he was undressed and settled down in his bed.
CHAPTER VIII.
Next morning, while waiting for Pavel Pavlovitch, who had promised to be in good time in order to drive down to the Pogoryeltseffs with him, Velchaninoff walked up and down the room, sipped his coffee, and every other minute reflected upon one and the same idea; namely, that he felt like a man who had awaked from sleep with the deep impression of having received a box on the ear the last thing at night.
“Hm!” he thought, anxiously, “he understands the state of the case only too well; he'll take it out of me by means of Liza!” The dear image of the poor little girl danced before his eyes. His heart beat quicker when he reflected that to-day—in a couple of hours—he would see his own Liza once more. “Yes—there's no question about it,” he said to himself; “my whole end and aim in life is there now! What do I care about all these ‘memories’ and boxes on the ear; and what have I lived for up to now?—for sorrow and discomfort—that's all! but now, now—it's all different!”
But in spite of his ecstatic feelings he grew more and more thoughtful.
“He is worrying me for Liza, that's plain; and he bullies Liza—he is going to take it out of me that way—for all! Hm! at all events I cannot possibly allow such sallies as his of last night,” and Velchaninoff blushed hotly “and here's half-past eleven and he hasn't come yet.” He waited long—till half-past twelve, and his anguish of impatience grew more and more keen. Pavel Pavlovitch did not appear. At length the idea began to take shape that Pavel Pavlovitch naturally would not come again for the sole purpose of another scene like that of last night. The thought filled Velchaninoff with despair. “The brute knows I am depending upon him—and what on earth am I to do now about Liza? How can I make my appearance without him?”
At last he could bear it no longer and set off to the Pokrofsky at one o'clock to look for Pavel Pavlovitch.