Enter Artémyev, with a cockade on his cap, dyed moustaches, and old renovated clothes.
ARTÉMYEV. Wish you a good appetite! [Bows to Fédya] I see you've made acquaintance with our painter, our artist.
FÉDYA [coldly] Yes, we are acquainted.
ARTÉMYEV [to Petushkóv] And have you finished the portrait?
PETUSHKÓV. No, I lost the order.
ARTÉMYEV [Sits down] I'm not in your way?
Fédya and Petushkóv do not answer.
PETUSHKÓV. Theodore Vasílyevich was telling me about his life.
ARTÉMYEV. Secrets? Then I won't disturb you—go on? I'm sure I don't want you. Swine! [Goes to next table and calls for beer. He listens all the time to Fédya's conversation with Petushkóv, and leans towards them without their noticing it.]
FÉDYA. I don't like that gentleman.