I was left for a moment alone. Disorder, the remains of dinner, a
broken wine-glass on the floor, spilt wine, cigarette ends, fumes of
drink and delirium in my brain, an agonising misery in my heart and
finally the waiter, who had seen and heard all and was looking
inquisitively into my face.

"I am going there!" I cried. "Either they shall all go down on their
knees to beg for my friendship, or I will give Zverkov a slap in the
face!"

V

"So this is it, this is it at last--contact with real life," I muttered
as I ran headlong downstairs. "This is very different from the Pope's
leaving Rome and going to Brazil, very different from the ball on Lake
Como!"

"You are a scoundrel," a thought flashed through my mind, "if you laugh
at this now."

"No matter!" I cried, answering myself. "Now everything is lost!"

There was no trace to be seen of them, but that made no difference--I
knew where they had gone.

At the steps was standing a solitary night sledge-driver in a rough
peasant coat, powdered over with the still falling, wet, and as it were
warm, snow. It was hot and steamy. The little shaggy piebald horse
was also covered with snow and coughing, I remember that very well. I
made a rush for the roughly made sledge; but as soon as I raised my
foot to get into it, the recollection of how Simonov had just given me
six roubles seemed to double me up and I tumbled into the sledge like a
sack.

"No, I must do a great deal to make up for all that," I cried. "But I
will make up for it or perish on the spot this very night. Start!"

We set off. There was a perfect whirl in my head.

"They won't go down on their knees to beg for my friendship. That is a
mirage, cheap mirage, revolting, romantic and fantastical--that's
another ball on Lake Como. And so I am bound to slap Zverkov's face!
It is my duty to. And so it is settled; I am flying to give him a slap
in the face. Hurry up!"

The driver tugged at the reins.

"As soon as I go in I'll give it him. Ought I before giving him the
slap to say a few words by way of preface? No. I'll simply go in and
give it him. They will all be sitting in the drawing-room, and he with
Olympia on the sofa. That damned Olympia! She laughed at my looks on
one occasion and refused me. I'll pull Olympia's hair, pull Zverkov's
ears! No, better one ear, and pull him by it round the room. Maybe
they will all begin beating me and will kick me out. That's most
likel