Masha looked brightly and boldly at her mother.
‘It can’t be!’ thought Nenila Makarievna,
and she felt reassured. ’As if she could
deceive me!... How could I think of such a thing!...
She’s still a perfect baby....’
She went away....
‘But this is really wicked,’ thought Masha.
Kister had already gone to bed when Lutchkov came
into his room. The bully’s face never expressed
one feeling; so it was now: feigned indifference,
coarse delight, consciousness of his own superiority...
a number of different emotions were playing over his
features.
‘Well, how was it? how was it?’ Kister
made haste to question him.
‘Oh! I went. They sent you greetings.’
‘Well? Are they all well?’
‘Of course, why not?’
‘Did they ask why I didn’t come?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
Lutchkov stared at the ceiling and hummed out of tune.
Kister looked down and mused.
‘But, look here,’ Lutchkov brought out
in a husky, jarring voice, ’you’re a clever
fellow, I dare say, you’re a cultured fellow,
but you’re a good bit out in your ideas sometimes
for all that, if I may venture to say so.’
‘How do you mean?’
’Why, look here. About women, for instance.
How you’re always cracking them up! You’re
never tired of singing their praises! To listen
to you, they’re all angels.... Nice sort
of angels!’
‘I like and respect women, but------’
‘Oh, of course, of course,’ Avdey cut
him short. ’I am not going to argue with
you. That’s quite beyond me! I’m
a plain man.’
’I was going to say that... But why just
to-day... just now,... are you talking about women?’
‘Oh, nothing!’ Avdey smiled with great
meaning. ‘Nothing!’
Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined
(simple heart!) that Masha had been treating him badly;
had been torturing him, perhaps, as only women can....
‘You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...’
Lutchkov went off into a chuckle.
‘Oh, well, I don’t fancy I’ve much
to feel hurt about,’ he said, in a drawling
tone, complacently stroking his moustaches. ’No,
only, look here, Fedya,’ he went on with the
manner of a preceptor, ’I was only going to
point out that you’re altogether out of it about
women, my lad. You believe me, Fedya, they ’re
all alike. One’s only got to take a little
trouble, hang about them a bit, and you’ve got
things in your own hands. Look at Masha Perekatov
now....’
‘Oh!’
Lutchkov tapped his foot on the floor and shook his
head.
’Is there anything so specially attractive about
me, hey? I shouldn’t have thought there
was anything. There isn’t anything, is there?
And here, I’ve a clandestine appointment for
to-morrow.’
Kister sat up, leaned on his elbow, and stared in
amazement at Lutchkov.
