:
"It's no joke, Nikolai Ivanovitch, for you to say such things before
people who don't know me and who see me in this unlined jacket . . .
because--" His voice failed him, and again his small red hands with
their dirty nails went from his jacket to his face, touching his
moustache, his hair, his nose, rubbing his eyes, or needlessly
scratching his cheek.
"As to saying that, everybody knows it, old fellow," continued S.,
thoroughly satisfied with his jest, and not heeding Guskof's complaint.
Guskof was still trying to say something; and placing the palm of his
right hand on his left knee in a most unnatural position, and gazing at
S., he had an appearance of smiling contemptuously.
"No," said I to myself, as I noticed that smile of his, "I have not only
seen him, but have spoken with him somewhere."
"You and I have met somewhere," said I to him when, under the influence
of the common silence, S.'s laughter began to calm down. Guskof's mobile
face suddenly lighted up, and his eyes, for the first time with a truly
joyous expression, rested upon me.
"Why, I recognized you immediately," he replied in French. "In '48 I had
the pleasure of meeting you quite frequently in Moscow at my sister's.
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