"Nothing will happen. You're a quiet fellow. You speak little, neither do I like to speak always. If it's tiresome I speak, or else I keep quiet all the time. When you ask about something, one says one thing, another says another thing, and a third still another. Well, the devil take you, think I. You have a whole lot of words, but none that are true."
"Yes," said Yevsey for the sake of answering.
"Something must be done," he thought in self-defense. Suddenly he resolved, "At first I will—Sasha—" But he did not wish to represent to himself what would be afterward. "Where are we going to go?" he inquired of Melnikov.
"To the office," Melnikov replied with unconcern.
"I don't want to," declared Yevsey drily and firmly.
Melnikov combed his beard for a time in silence. Then he shoved the dishes from him, and placing his elbows on the table, said meditatively in a subdued voice:
"Our service has become hard. All have begun to rebel, but who are the real rebels here? Make it out, if you can."
"I know who's the first scoundrel and skunk," muttered Klimkov.
"Sasha you mean?" inquired Melnikov.
Yevsey gave no reply. He was quietly beginning to devise a plan of action. Melnikov started to dress, sniffing loudly.