Fyodor Dostoevsky

crinoline and train. Also, she was short and inordinately stout,

while her gross, flabby chin completely concealed her neck. Her

face was purple, and the little eyes in it had an impudent,

malicious expression. Yet she walked as though she were

conferring a favour upon everybody by so doing. As for the

Baron, he was tall, wizened, bony-faced after the German

fashion, spectacled, and, apparently, about forty-five years of

age. Also, he had legs which seemed to begin almost at his

chest--or, rather, at his chin! Yet, for all his air of

peacock-like conceit, his clothes sagged a little, and his face

wore a sheepish air which might have passed for profundity.

These details I noted within a space of a few seconds.

At first my bow and the fact that I had my hat in my hand barely

caught their attention. The Baron only scowled a little, and the

Baroness swept straight on.

"Madame la Baronne," said I, loudly and distinctly--embroidering

each word, as it were--"j'ai l'honneur d'etre votre esclave."

Then I bowed again, put on my hat, and walked past the Baron

with a rude smile on my face.

Polina had ordered me merely to take off my hat: the bow and the

general effrontery were of my own invention. God knows what

instigated me to perpetrate the outrage! In my frenzy I felt as

though I were walking on air,

"Hein!" ejaculated--or, rather, growled--the Baron as he turned

towards me in angry surprise.

I too turned round, and stood waiting in pseudo-courteous

expectation. Yet still I wore on my face an impudent smile as I

gazed at him. He seemed to hesitate, and his brows contracted to

their utmost limits. Every moment his visage was growing darker.

The Baroness also turned in my direction, and gazed at me in

wrathful perplexity, while some of the passers-by also began to

stare at us, and others of them halted outright.

"Hein!" the Baron vociferated again, with a redoubled growl

and a note of growing wrath in his voice.

"Ja wohl!" I replied, still looking him in the eyes.

"Sind sie rasend?" he exclaimed, brandishing his stick, and,

apparently, beginning to feel nervous. Perhaps it was my costume

which intimidated him, for I was well and fashionably dressed,

after the manner of a man who belongs to indisputably good

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