"Let him depart, of what good could he be?" Tchichikoff whispered slowly to Nosdrieff.
"You are right, by Jove!" said Nosdrieff, "I cannot bear the sight of these nervous fools!" and he added aloud, "well, the d—l be with you; go and make love to your better-half, you slave to gynæocracy!"
"No, brother, you ought not to call me by any of those foreign names," his brother-in-law replied, "as for my wife, I owe her my existence. She is an amiable and loving woman and is full of such tenderness—she often moves me to tears; no, the more I think of her the more I wish to return to her; she is sure to ask me what I have seen and done at the fair, and I shall have to tell her all, for she is an angel of a woman!"
"Be off then, and tell her as much as you like! there is your cap."
"Nay, brother Nosdrieff, you are wrong in wanting respect for your own sister; by committing a breach of politeness towards her, you offend me as well, and you know well what an amiable woman my wife is."
"Therefore, I cannot advise you better than to hasten into her arms as soon as you like, and sooner if possible!"
"Yes, brother, I must leave you, excuse me, but really I cannot stay any longer. My heart would be rejoiced if I could stay, but I must not tarry any longer."
Nosdrieff's brother-in-law continued yet for a considerable time to express his regrets and excuses, without noticing that he had been already seated for some time in his own carriage, that he had long since departed from Nosdrieff's house, and that nothing but open fields and the high road were before him. It might be easily imagined, that his wife heard but little of what he had seen and done at the fair.