thought--I could pay him back for it one way or another. But what if, in
reality, without the least desire to be offensive, that sheepshead had a
notion in earnest that he was superior to me and could only look at me in a
patronising way? The very supposition made me gasp.
"I was surprised to hear of your desire to join us," he began, lisping and
drawling, which was something new. "You and I seem to have seen nothing of one
another. You fight shy of us. You shouldn't. We are not such terrible
people as you think. Well, anyway, I am glad to renew our acquaintance."
And he turned carelessly to put down his hat on the window.
"Have you been waiting long?" Trudolyubov inquired.
"I arrived at five o'clock as you told me yesterday," I answered aloud,
with an irritability that threatened an explosion.
"Didn't you let him know that we had changed the hour?" said
Trudolyubov to Simonov.
"No, I didn't. I forgot," the latter replied, with no sign of regret,
and without even apologising to me he went off to order the HORS D'OEUVRE.
"So you've been here a whole hour? Oh, poor fellow!" Zverkov cried
ironically, for to his notions this was bound to be extremely funny. That
rascal Ferfitchkin followed with his nasty little snigger like a puppy yapping.
My position struck him, too, as exquisitely ludicrous and embarrassing.
"It isn't funny at all!" I cried to Ferfitchkin, more and more irritated.
"It wasn't my fault, but other people's. They neglected to let me know. It
was ... it was ... it was simply absurd."
"It's not only absurd, but something else as well," muttered Trudolyubov,
naively taking my part. "You are not hard enough upon it. It was
simply rudeness--unintentional, of course. And how could Simonov ... h'm!"
"If a trick like that had been played on me," observed Ferfitchkin, "I
should ..."
"But you should have ordered something for yourself," Zverkov interrupted,
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