Kollomietzev took to walking up and down in front of Paklin as if to cut off his way, although the latter had not betrayed the slightest inclination of wanting to run away. “Why don’t you speak? Answer me! Do you know, eh? Do you know?”
“Even if I knew,” Paklin began, annoyed; his wrath had risen up in him at last and his eyes flashed fire: “even if I knew I would not tell you.”
“Oh ... oh ...” Kollomietzev muttered. “Do you hear? Do you hear? This one too—this one too is of their gang!”
“The carriage is ready!” a footman announced loudly.
Sipiagin with a quick graceful movement seized his hat, but Valentina Mihailovna was so insistent in her persuasions for him to put off the journey until the morning and brought so many convincing arguments to bear—such as: that it was pitch dark outside, that everybody in town would be asleep, that he would only upset his nerves and might catch cold—that Sipiagin at length came to agree with her.
“I obey!” he exclaimed, and with the same graceful gesture, not so rapid this time, replaced his hat on the table.
“I shall not want the carriage now,” he said to the footman, “but see that it’s ready at six o’clock in the morning! Do you hear? You can go now! But stay! See that the gentleman’s carriage is sent off and the driver paid! What? Did you say anything, Mr. Konopatin? I am going to take you to town with me tomorrow, Mr. Konopatin! What did you say? I can’t hear.... Do you take vodka? Give Mr. Konopatin some vodka! No? You don’t drink? In that case ... Feodor! take the gentleman into the green room! Goodnight, Mr. Kono——”
Paklin lost all patience.
“Paklin!” he shouted, “my name is Paklin!”
“Oh, yes ... it makes no difference. A bit alike, you know. What a powerful voice you have for your spare build! Till tomorrow, Mr. Paklin.... Have I got it right this time? Siméon, vous viendrez avec nous?”