Peredonov looked at them gloomily and did not reply to their congratulations. Malevolence and fear tormented him.
"They're always tracking me everywhere," he thought dejectedly.
"You might have crossed your foreheads," he said angrily. "Or possibly you were thinking evil against me."
The visitors crossed themselves, laughed and joked. The young officials especially distinguished themselves. The deacon reproached them.
Among the visitors was a young men with red moustaches whom Peredonov did not even know. He resembled a cat to an extraordinary degree. Wasn't it their cat turned into human shape? It was not for nothing that this young man kept snarling—he had not forgotten his cattish habits.
"Who told you?" asked Varvara angrily of the new guests.
"A nice young woman told us," replied Mourin. "But we have forgotten who it was."
Grushina turned around and winked at them. The new guests smiled back but did not give her away. Mourin said:
"As you like, Ardalyon Borisitch, but we're coming with you and you must give us champagne. Don't be a skinflint. You can't pour cold water on such friends as we are, and yet you've tried to get married on the quiet."
When the Peredonovs returned from the wedding the sun had gone down, but the sky was all fiery and golden. But this did not please Peredonov. He growled: