with his
heels.

Bersenyev picked up the cloth off the floor--and threw it over the
statuette.

'Ah, you, magnanimous'--began Shubin. 'Who the devil was it in history
was so particularly magnanimous? Well, never mind! And now,' he
continued, with melancholy triumph, uncovering a third rather large mass
of clay, 'you shall behold something which will show you the humility
and discernment of your friend. You will realise that he, like a true
artist again, feels the need and the use of self-castigation. Behold!'

The cloth was lifted and Bersenyev saw two heads, modelled side by side
and close as though growing together.... He did not at once know what
was the subject, but looking closer, he recognised in one of them
Annushka, in the other Shubin himself. They were, however, rather
caricatures than portraits. Annushka was represented as a handsome fat
girl with a low forehead, eyes lost in layers of fat, and a saucily
turned-up nose. Her thick lips had an insolent curve; her whole
face expressed sensuality, carelessness, and boldness, not without
goodnature. Himself Shubin had modelled as a lean emaciated rake, with
sunken cheeks, his thin hair hanging in weak wisps about his face, a
meaningless expression in his dim eyes, and his nose sharp and thin as a
dead man's.

Bersenyev turned away with disgust. 'A nice pair, aren't they, my dear
fellow?' said Shubin; 'won't you graciously compose a suitable title?
For the first two I have already thought of titles. On the bust shall be
inscribed: "A hero resolving to liberate his country." On the statuette:
"Look out, sausage-eating Germans!" And for this work what do you think
of "The future of the artist Pavel Yakovlitch Shubin?" Will that do?'

'Leave off,' replied Bersenyev. 'Was it worth while to waste your time
on such a ----' He could not at once fix on a suitable word.

'Disgusting thing, you mean? No, my dear fellow, excuse me, if anything
ought to go to the exhibition, it's that group.'

'It's simply disgusting,' repeated Bersenyev. 'And besides, it's
nonsense. You have absolutely no such degrading tendencies to which,
unhappily, our artists have such a frequent bent. You have simply
libelled yourself.'

'Do you think so?' said Shubin gloomily. 'I have none of them, and
if they come upon me, the fault is all one person's. Do you know,'
he added, tragically knitting his brows, 'that I have been trying
drinking?'

'Nonsense?'

'Yes, I have, by God,' rejoined