“You are not going, then, Maksim Maksimych?”
“No, sir!”
“But why not?”
“Well, I have not seen the Commandant yet, and I have to deliver some Government things.”
“But you did go, you know.”
“I did, of course,” he stammered, “but he was not at home... and I did not wait.”
I understood. For the first time in his life, probably, the poor old man had, to speak by the book, thrown aside official business ‘for the sake of his personal requirements’... and how he had been rewarded!
“I am very sorry, Maksim Maksimych, very sorry indeed,” I said, “that we must part sooner than necessary.”
“What should we rough old men be thinking of to run after you? You young men are fashionable and proud: under the Circassian bullets you are friendly enough with us... but when you meet us afterwards you are ashamed even to give us your hand!”
“I have not deserved these reproaches, Maksim Maksimych.”