HOW WOLODA AND DUBKOFF AMUSED THEMSELVES
THE moment that Dimitri entered my room I perceived from his face, manner of walking, and the signs which, in him, denoted ill-humour--a blinking of the eyes and a grim holding of his head to one side, as though to straighten his collar--that he was in the coldly-correct frame of mind which was his when he felt dissatisfied with himself.It was a frame of mind, too, which always produced a chilling effect upon my feelings towards him.
Of late I had begun to observe and appraise my friend's character a little more, but our friendship had in no way suffered from that, since it was still too young and strong for me to be able to look upon Dimitri as anything but perfect, no matter in what light I regarded him.In him there were two personalities, both of which I thought beautiful.One, which I loved devotedly, was kind, mild, forgiving, gay, and conscious of being those various things.When he was in this frame of mind his whole exterior, the very tone of his voice, his every movement, appeared to say: "I am kind and good-natured, and rejoice in being so, and every one can see that I so rejoice." The other of his two personalities--
one which I had only just begun to apprehend, and before the majesty of which I bowed in spirit--was that of a man who was cold, stern to himself and to others, proud, religious to the point of fanaticism, and pedantically moral.At the present moment he was, as I say, this second personality.
With that frankness which constituted a necessary condition of our relations I told him, as soon as we entered the drozhki, how much it depressed and hurt me to see him, on this my fete-day in a frame of mind so irksome and disagreeable to me.
"What has upset you so?" I asked him."Will you not tell me?"
"My dear Nicolas," was his slow reply as he gave his head a nervous twitch to one side and blinked his eyes, "since I have given you my word never to conceal anything from you, you have no reason to suspect me of secretiveness.One cannot always be in exactly the same mood, and if I seem at all put out, that is all there is to say about it."
"What a marvellously open, honourable character his is!" I thought to myself, and dropped the subject.
We drove the rest of the way to Dubkoff's in silence.Dubkoff's flat was an unusually fine one--or, at all events, so it seemed to me.Everywhere were rugs, pictures, gardenias, striped hangings, photographs, and curved settees, while on the walls hung guns, pistols, pouches, and the mounted heads of wild beasts.It was the appearance of this apartment which made me aware whom, it was that Woloda had imitated in the scheme of his own sitting-room.We found Dubkoff and Woloda engaged in cards, while seated also at the table, and watching the game with close attention, was a gentleman whom I did not know, but who appeared to be of no great importance, judging by the modesty of his attitude.Dubkoff himself was in a silk dressing-gown and soft slippers, while Woloda--seated opposite him on a divan--was in his shirtsleeves, as well as (to judge by his flushed face and the impatient, cursory glance which he gave us for a second as he looked up from the cards) much taken up with the game.On seeing me, he reddened still more.
"Well, it is for you to deal," he remarked to Dubkoff.In an instant I divined that he did not altogether relish my becoming acquainted with the fact that he gambled.Yet his expression had nothing in it of confusion--only a look which seemed to me to say:
"Yes, I play cards, and if you are surprised at that, it is only because you are so young.There is nothing wrong about it--it is a necessity at our age." Yes, I at once divined and understood that.
