ANNA. Now tell me, aren't you ashamed? You were the only one I relied on to act decently. They all ran away and you after them, and till now I haven't been able to find out a thing. Aren't you ashamed? I stood godmother to your Vanichka and Lizanko, and this is the way you treat me.
DOBCHINSKY. Godmother, upon my word, I ran so fast to pay my respects to you that I'm all out of breath. How do you do, Marya Antonovna?
ANNA. Well, tell me all about it. What is happening at the inn?
DOBCHINSKY. I have a note for you from Anton Antonovich.
DOBCHINSKY. No, not a general, but every bit as good as a general, I tell you. Such culture! Such dignified manners!
ANNA. Ah! So he is the same as the one my husband got a letter about.
DOBCHINSKY. Exactly. It was Piotr Ivanovich and I who first discovered him.
DOBCHINSKY. It's all right now, thank the Lord. At first he received Anton Antonovich rather roughly. He was angry and said the inn was not run properly, and he wouldn't come to the Governor's house and he didn't want to go to jail on account of him. But then when he found out that Anton Antonovich was not to blame and they got to talking more intimately, he changed right away, and, thank Heaven, everything went well. They've gone now to inspect the philanthropic institutions. I confess that Anton Antonovich had already begun to suspect that a secret denunciation had been lodged against him. I myself was trembling a little, too.
ANNA. What have you to be afraid of? You're not an official.
DOBCHINSKY. Well, you see, when a Grand Mogul speaks, you feel afraid.
ANNA. That's all rubbish. Tell me, what is he like personally? Is he young or old?
DOBCHINSKY. Young--a young man of about twenty-three. But he talks as if he were older. "If you will allow me," he says, "I will go there and there." [Waves his hands.] He does it all with such distinction. "I like," he says, "to read and write, but I am prevented because my room is rather dark."
ANNA. And what sort of a looking man is he, dark or fair?
DOBCHINSKY. Neither. I should say rather chestnut. And his eyes dart about like little animals. They make you nervous.
ANNA. Let me see what my husband writes. [Reads.] "I hasten to let you know, dear, that my position was extremely uncomfortable, but relying on the mercy of God, two pickles extra and a half portion of caviar, one ruble and twenty-five kopeks." [Stops.] I don't understand. What have pickles and caviar got to do with it?