er moments my legs would deviate from the
straight line, and my arms describe strange gestures. I concentrated my
whole attention upon the members in question, forced my hands first to
raise themselves and button my tunic, and then to smooth my hair (though
they ruffled my locks in doing so), and lastly commanded my legs to
march me to the door--a function which they duly performed, though at
one time with too much reluctance, and at another with too much ABANDON
(the left leg, in particular, coming to a halt every moment on tiptoe).
Some one called out to me, "Where are you going to? They will bring you
a cigar-light directly," but I guessed the voice to be Woloda's, and,
feeling satisfied, somehow, that I had succeeded in divining the fact,
merely smiled airily in reply, and continued on my way.

XVI. THE QUARREL

In the main salon I perceived sitting at a small table a short, squat
gentleman of the professional type. He had a red moustache, and was
engaged in eating something or another, while by his side sat a tall,
clean-shaven individual with whom he was carrying on a conversation in
French. Somehow the aspect of these two persons displeased me; yet I
decided, for all that, to light my cigarette at the candelabrum which
was standing before them. Looking from side to side, to avoid meeting
their gaze, I approached the table, and applied my cigarette to the
flame. When it was fairly alight, I involuntarily threw a glance at the
gentleman who was eating, and found his grey eyes fixed upon me with an
expression of intense displeasure. Just as I was turning away his red
moustache moved a little, and he said in French:

"I do not like people to smoke when I am dining, my good sir."

I murmured something inaudible.

"No, I do not like it at all," he went on sternly, and with a glance at
his clean-shaven companion, as though inviting him to admire the way in
which he was about to deal with me. "I do not like it, my good sir, nor
do I like people who have the impudence to puff their smoke up one's
very nose."

By this time I had gathered that it was myself he was scolding, and at
first felt as though I had been altogether in the wrong.

"I did not mean to inconvenience you," I said.

"Well, if you did not suppose you were being impertinent, at least I
did! You are a cad, young sir!" he shouted in reply.

"But what right have you to shout at me like that?" I exclaimed, feeling
that it was now HE that was ins