We got into conversation. In less than half-an-hour after his arrival, he was telling me his whole life with the most simple-hearted openness.
'I'm on my way to Moscow now,' he told me as he sipped his fourth glass; 'there's nothing for me to do now in the country.'
'How so?'
'Well, it's come to that. My property's in disorder; I've ruined my peasants, I must confess; there have been bad years: bad harvests, and all sorts of ill-luck, you know.... Though, indeed,' he added, looking away dejectedly; 'how could I manage an estate!'
'Why's that?'
'But, no,' he interrupted me? 'there are people like me who make good managers! You see,' he went on, screwing his head on one side and sucking his pipe assiduously, 'looking at me, I dare say you think I'm not much... but you, see, I must confess, I've had a very middling education; I wasn't well off. I beg your pardon; I'm an open man, and if you come to that....'
He did not complete his sentence, but broke off with a wave of the hand. I began to assure him that he was mistaken, that I was highly delighted to meet him, and so on, and then observed that I should have thought a very thorough education was not indispensable for the good management of property.
'Agreed,' he responded; 'I agree with you. But still, a special sort of disposition's essential! There are some may do anything they like, and it's all right! but I.... Allow me to ask, are you from Petersburg or from Moscow?'
'I'm from Petersburg.'
He blew a long coil of smoke from his nostrils.