He is silent, evidently understanding, and thinking it over.
"It can be done, you know," say I, "and what a good thing it would be!... The day before yesterday I went to Ívino. When I reached one of the houses, the master came out to greet me, calling me by name. It turned out that we had met twelve years before.... It was Koúzin—do you know him?"
"Of course I do! Sergéy Timoféevitch, you mean?"
I tell him how we started a Temperance Society twelve years ago with Koúzin, who, though he used to drink, has quite given it up, and now tells me he is very glad to be rid of so nasty a habit; and, one sees, is living well, with his house and everything well managed, and who, had he not given up drinking, would have had none of these things.
"Yes, that is so!"
"Well then, you know, you should do the same. You are such a nice, good lad.... What do you need vódka for, when you say yourself there is no good in it?... You, too, should give it up!... It would be such a good thing!"
He remains silent, and looks at me intently. I prepare to go, and hold out my hand to him.
"Truly, give it up from now! It would be such a good thing!"
With his strong hand he firmly presses mine, evidently regarding my gesture as challenging him to promise.
"Very well then ... it can be done!" says he, quite unexpectedly, and in a joyous and resolute tone.