'Well, how was it? how was it?' Kister made haste to question him.
'Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.'
'Well? Are they all well?'
'Of course, why not?'
'Did they ask why I didn't come?'
'Yes, I think so.'
Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune. Kister looked down and mused.
'But, look here,' Lutchkov brought out in a husky, jarring voice, 'you're a clever fellow, I dare say, you're a cultured fellow, but you're a good bit out in your ideas sometimes for all that, if I may venture to say so.'
'How do you mean?'
'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always cracking them up! You're never tired of singing their praises! To listen to you, they're all angels.... Nice sort of angels!'