ion.

But it was impossible to stop Niura, who had gotten a running start.

"But Ninka says: 'I,' she says, 'won't stay with him for anything,
though you cut me all to pieces ... He,' she says, 'has made me all wet
with his spit.' Well, the old man complained to the porter, to be sure,
and the porter starts in to beat up Ninka, to be sure. And Sergei
Ivanich at this time was writing for me a letter home, to the province,
and when he heard that Ninka was hollering..."

"Zoe, shut her mouth!" said Platonov.

"He just jumped up at once and ... app! ..." and Niura's torrent
instantly broke off, stopped up by Zoe's palm.

Everybody burst out laughing, only Boris Sobashnikov muttered under
cover of the noise with a contemptuous look:

"OH, CHEVALIER SANS PEUR ET SANS REPROCHE!"

He was already pretty far gone in drink, stood leaning against the
wall, in a provoking pose, and was nervously chewing a cigarette.

"Which Ninka is this?" asked Yarchenko with curiosity. "Is she here?"

"No, she isn't here. Such a small, pug-nosed little girl. Naive and
very angry." The reporter suddenly and sincerely burst into laughter.
"Excuse me ... It's just so ... over my thoughts," explained he through
laughter. "I recalled this old man very vividly just now, as he was
running along the corridor in fright, having grabbed his outer clothing
and shoes ... Such a respectable ancient, with the appearance of an
apostle, I even know where he serves. Why, all of you know him. But the
funniest of all was when he, at last, felt himself out of danger in the
drawing room. You understand--he is sitting on a chair, putting on his
pantaloons, can't put his foot where it ought to go, by any means, and
bawls all over the house: 'It's an outrage! This is an abominable dive!
I'll show you up! ... To-morrow I'll give you twenty-four hours to
clear out! ... Do you know, this combination of pitiful helplessness
with the threatening cries was so killing that even the gloomy Simeon
started laughing ... Well, now, apropos of Simeon ... I say, that life
dumfounds, with its wondrous muddle and farrago, makes one stand
aghast. You can utter a thousand sonorous words against souteneurs, but
just such a Simeon you will never think up. So diverse and motley is
life! Or else take Anna Markovna, the proprietress of this place. This
blood-sucker, hyena, vixen and so on ... is the tenderest mother
imaginable. She has one daughter--Bertha, she is now in the fifth grad