Hereupon Nosdrieff and Tchichikoff embraced and kissed one another on the cheek—as is the custom between intimate friends in Russia.
"And we shall all have a delightful journey home!"
"Pray, no, I hope you will excuse me," said his fair brother-in-law, "I must hasten homewards."
"Nonsense, stuff, my dear fellow, I shall not let you off."
"Really, I must, else my wife will be angry with me, and besides, now you will be able to take a seat in Mr. Tchichikoff's britchka."
"No, no, no, and don't you think of escaping us!"
Mushnieff, Nosdrieff's fair-complexioned brother-in-law, was one of those men whose dominant character seemed to be a spirit of contradiction. Scarcely has a person had time to open his mouth, when he will be already to contradict him, it is therefore obvious that they will never agree upon any point that is in just opposition to their different and separate opinion, they will therefore never call a foolish man a wise one, and especially such men would as a matter of course never consent to dance to another's whistle; but in the end, it will always appear that their general character is a weak disposition, and that at last they will agree upon the very thing they originally had been contradicting, namely, they will affirm the fool to be a wise man, and the next thing they will do, is to go and dance most heartily after another man's whistle, in a word, they begin roughly and end smoothly.
"Nonsense!" said Nosdrieff, in reply to some observation of his brother-in-law; he then took his travelling cap, put it on his head and the fair gentleman followed the two others.
"I hope you will excuse me, but your glories have not paid me for the liqueurs," said the old landlady.
"Ah, very well, my good woman. I say my dear brother-in-law, just pay that old woman will you. I have not a copek in my pocket," said Nosdrieff.