“Very well, then…” hissed Tanaroff through his teeth.
Von Deitz stared in amazement, and his long face turned yellow.
“In that case…” began Tanaroff, in a louder and would-be threatening tone.
Sanine felt fresh hatred for the fellow as he looked at his narrow forehead and his tight breeches.
“Yes, yes, I know all about it,” he interrupted. “But one thing, let me tell you; I don’t intend to fight Sarudine.”
Tanaroff drew himself up, and said in a tone of contempt.
Sanine burst out laughing. His hatred had vanished as swiftly as it had come.
“Well, this is why. First of all, I have no wish to kill Sarudine, and secondly, I have even less desire to be killed myself.”
“I won’t, and there’s an end of it!” said Sanine, as he rose. “Why, indeed? I don’t feel inclined to give you any explanation. That were too much to expect, really!”
Tanaroff’s profound contempt for the man who refused to fight a duel was blended with the implicit belief that only an officer could possibly possess the pluck and the fine sense of honour necessary to do such a thing. That is why Sanine’s refusal did not surprise him in the least; in fact, he was secretly pleased.
“That is your affair,” he said, in an unmistakably contemptuous tone, “but I must warn you that …”
“Yes, yes, I know, but I advise Sarudine not to …”
“Not to—what?” asked Tanaroff, as he picked up his cap from the window-sill.
“I advise him not to touch me, or else I’ll give him such a thrashing that …”
“Look here!” cried Von Deitz, in a fury. “I’m not going to stand this… You … you are simply laughing at us. Don’t you understand that to refuse to accept a challenge is … is …”
He was as red as a lobster, his eyes were starting from his head, and there was foam on his lips.
Sanine looked curiously at his mouth, and said:
“And this is the man whose calls himself a disciple of Tolstoi!”
“I must beg of you,” he spluttered, ashamed all the while at thus addressing a man with whom till now he had been on friendly terms. “I must beg of you not to mention that. It has nothing whatever to do with this matter.”
“Hasn’t it! though?” replied Sanine. “It has a great deal to do with it.”
“Yes, but I must ask you,” croaked Von Deitz, becoming hysterical.
“Oh! That’ll do!” replied Sanine, drawing back in disgust from Von Deitz, from whose mouth saliva spurted. “Think what you like; I don’t care. And tell Sarudine that he is an ass!”