"Ah-ah! the sound of a passionate
kiss. . . . Who is it you're kissing out
there, little Marfa?" came a voice
from the next room, and in the
doorway
there
appeared
the
cropped head of the assistant usher,
Vankin. "Who is it? A-a-h! . . .
Delighted to meet you! Sergei
Kapitonich!
You're
a
fine
grandfather, I must say!"
"I'm not kissing," said Ahineev in
confusion. "Who told you so, you
fool? I was only . . . I smacked my
lips . . . in reference to . . . as an
indication of. . . pleasure . . . at the
sight of the fish."
"Tell that to the marines!" The intrusive face vanished, wearing a
broad grin.
Ahineev flushed.
"Hang it!" he thought, "the beast will go now and talk scandal.
He'll disgrace me to all the town, the brute."
Ahineev went timidly into the drawing room and looked stealthily
round for Vankin. Vankin was standing by the piano, and, bending
down with a jaunty air, was whispering something to the
inspector's sister-in-law, who was laughing.
"Talking about me!" thought Ahineev. "About me, blast him! And
she believes it . . . believes it! She laughs! Mercy on us! No, I
can't let it pass . . . I can't. I must do something to prevent his
being believed. . . . I'll speak to them all, and he'll be shown up
for a fool and a gossip."
Ahineev scratched his head, and still overcome
embarrassment, went up to the French teacher.
50
with