“An interesting type, that! He must be pretty strong!” he thought, with the genuine admiration of the weakling for the athlete. In fact, he began to speak to Sanine but the latter, leaning against the window- sill, was looking out at the garden. Volochine stopped short; the very sound of his own squeaky voice vexed him.
“Hooligans!” he thought.
At this moment Sarudine came back. He sat down next to Volochine and asked questions about St. Petersburg, and also about the latter’s factory, so as to let the others know what a very wealthy and important person his visitor was. The handsome face of this sturdy animal now wore an expression of petty vanity and self-importance.
“Everything’s the same with us, just the same!” replied Volochine, in a bored tone of voice. “How is it with you?”
“Oh! I’m just vegetating,” said Sarudine with a mournful sigh.
Volochine was silent, and looked up disdainfully at the ceiling where the green reflections from the garden wavered.
“Our one and only amusement is this,” continued Sarudine, as with a gesture he indicated the cards, the bottles, and his guests.
“Yes, yes!” drawled Volochine; to Sarudine his tone seemed to say, “and you’re no better, either.”
“I think I must be going now. I’m staying at the hotel on the boulevard. I may see you again!” Volochine rose to take his leave.
At this moment the orderly entered and saluting in slovenly fashion, said,