There was a general discussion going on among the guests. All at once I saw our queer friend jump upon his chair, and call out at the top of his voice, anxious for the exclusive attention of the company.
"Listen," the master of the house whispered to me. "He sometimes tells the most curious stories.... Does he interest you?"
I nodded and squeezed myself into the group. The sight of a well-dressed gentleman jumping upon his chair and shouting at the top of his voice did, in fact, draw the attention of all. Many who did not know the queer fellow looked at one another in perplexity, the others roared with laughter.
"I knew Fedosey Nikolaitch. I ought to know Fedosey Nikolaitch better than any one!" cried the queer fellow from his elevation. "Gentlemen, allow me to tell you something. I can tell you a good story about Fedosey Nikolaitch! I know a story--exquisite!"
"I begin; but, gentlemen, this is a peculiar story...."
"Very good, excellent, splendid. Get on!"
"It is an episode in the private life of your humble...."
"But why do you trouble yourself to announce that it's comic?"
"In short, the story which it will afford you all pleasure to hear me now relate, gentlemen--the story, in consequence of which I have come into company so interesting and profitable...."
"In short the story--make haste and finish the introduction. The story, which has its value," a fair-haired young man with moustaches pronounced in a husky voice, dropping his hand into his coat pocket and, as though by chance, pulling out a purse instead of his handkerchief.
"The story, my dear sirs, after which I should like to see many of you in my place. And, finally, the story, in consequence of which I have not married."
"Married! A wife! Polzunkov tried to get married!!"
"I confess I should like to see Madame Polzunkov."
"Allow me to inquire the name of the would-be Madame Polzunkov," piped a youth, making his way up to the storyteller.
"And so for the first chapter, gentlemen. It was just six years ago, in spring, the thirty-first of March--note the date, gentlemen--on the eve...."
"Of the first of April!" cried a young man with ringlets.
"You are extraordinarily quick at guessing. It was evening. Twilight was gathering over the district town of N., the moon was about to float out ... everything in proper style, in fact. And so in the very late twilight I, too, floated out of my poor lodging on the sly--after taking leave of my restricted granny, now dead. Excuse me, gentlemen, for making use of such a fashionable expression, which I heard for the last time from Nikolay Nikolaitch. But my granny was indeed restricted: she was blind, dumb, deaf, stupid--everything you please.... I confess I was in a tremor, I was prepared for great deeds; my heart was beating like a kitten's when some bony hand clutches it by the scruff of the neck."