“I didn’t invite him; he came.”
“There, there; get along with you.”
“Well, but, really, you might——”
“Shut up!”
“All right, I won’t, I won’t really.”
And the choir-master returned into the sitting-room, and sat down beside the deacon.
“Well, Vasìli Ivànych, and how are you getting on?”
“Pretty middling, thank you,” answered the deacon, coughing.
“Won’t you really have a pipe?”
“No, thanks.”