is?" Klimov went on, throwing up his hands. "I know the
girl, and . . . and . . . I am surprised. . . ."

"I am very sorry this has come up," muttered the actor, getting up
and rubbing something out of his left eye with his little finger.
"Though, of course . . . of course, you as her uncle . . ."

The other guests, who had hitherto been listening to the actor with
pleasure and rewarding him with smiles, were embarrassed and dropped
their eyes.

"Please, do be so good . . . take your words back . . ." said Klimov
in extreme embarrassment. "I beg you to do so!"

"If . . . er-er-er . . . it offends you, certainly," answered the
actor, with an undefined movement of his hand.

"And confess you have told a falsehood."

"I, no . . . er-er-er. . . . It was not a lie, but I greatly regret
having spoken too freely. . . . And, in fact . . . I don't understand
your tone!"

Klimov walked up and down the room in silence, as though in uncertainty
and hesitation. His fleshy face grew more and more crimson, and the
veins in his neck swelled up. After walking up and down for about
two minutes he went up to the actor and said in a tearful voice:

"No, do be so good as to confess that you told a lie about Varenka!
Have the goodness to do so!"

"It's queer," said the actor, with a strained smile, shrugging his
shoulders and swinging his leg. "This is positively insulting!"

"So you will not confess it?"

"I do-on't understand!"

"You will not? In that case, excuse me . . . I shall have to resort
to unpleasant measures. Either, sir, I shall insult you at once on
the spot, or . . . if you are an honourable man, you will kindly
accept my challenge to a duel. . . . We will fight!"

"Certainly!" rapped out the jeune premier, with a contemptuous
gesture. "Certainly."

Extremely perturbed, the guests and the host, not knowing what to
do, drew Klimov aside and began begging him not to get up a scandal.
Astonished feminine countenances appeared in the doorway. . . . The
jeune premier turned round, said a few words, and with an air of
being unable to remain in a house where he was insulted, took his
cap and made off without saying good-bye.

On his way home the jeune premier smiled contemptuously and shrugged
his shoulders, but when he reached his hotel room and stretched
himself on his sofa he felt exceedingly uneasy.

"The devil take him!" he thought. "A duel does not matter, he won't
kill me, but the trouble is the other fell