Taras Bulba and Other Tales
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第70章

And long after dinner he laughed again when the condition of the "cape" recurred to his mind.He dined cheerfully, and after dinner wrote nothing, but took his ease for a while on the bed, until it got dark.Then he dressed himself leisurely, put on his cloak, and stepped out into the street.Where the host lived, unfortunately we cannot say: our memory begins to fail us badly; and the houses and streets in St.Petersburg have become so mixed up in our head that it is very difficult to get anything out of it again in proper form.This much is certain, that the official lived in the best part of the city; and therefore it must have been anything but near to Akakiy Akakievitch's residence.Akakiy Akakievitch was first obliged to traverse a kind of wilderness of deserted, dimly-lighted streets; but in proportion as he approached the official's quarter of the city, the streets became more lively, more populous, and more brilliantly illuminated.Pedestrians began to appear; handsomely dressed ladies were more frequently encountered; the men had otter skin collars to their coats; peasant waggoners, with their grate-like sledges stuck over with brass-headed nails, became rarer; whilst on the other hand, more and more drivers in red velvet caps, lacquered sledges and bear-skin coats began to appear, and carriages with rich hammer-cloths flew swiftly through the streets, their wheels scrunching the snow.Akakiy Akakievitch gazed upon all this as upon a novel sight.He had not been in the streets during the evening for years.He halted out of curiosity before a shop-window to look at a picture representing a handsome woman, who had thrown off her shoe, thereby baring her whole foot in a very pretty way; whilst behind her the head of a man with whiskers and a handsome moustache peeped through the doorway of another room.Akakiy Akakievitch shook his head and laughed, and then went on his way.Why did he laugh? Either because he had met with a thing utterly unknown, but for which every one cherishes, nevertheless, some sort of feeling;or else he thought, like many officials, as follows: "Well, those French! What is to be said? If they do go in anything of that sort, why--" But possibly he did not think at all.

Akakiy Akakievitch at length reached the house in which the sub-chief lodged.The sub-chief lived in fine style: the staircase was lit by a lamp; his apartment being on the second floor.On entering the vestibule, Akakiy Akakievitch beheld a whole row of goloshes on the floor.Among them, in the centre of the room, stood a samovar or tea-urn, humming and emitting clouds of steam.On the walls hung all sorts of coats and cloaks, among which there were even some with beaver collars or velvet facings.Beyond, the buzz of conversation was audible, and became clear and loud when the servant came out with a trayful of empty glasses, cream-jugs, and sugar-bowls.It was evident that the officials had arrived long before, and had already finished their first glass of tea.

Akakiy Akakievitch, having hung up his own cloak, entered the inner room.Before him all at once appeared lights, officials, pipes, and card-tables; and he was bewildered by the sound of rapid conversation rising from all the tables, and the noise of moving chairs.He halted very awkwardly in the middle of the room, wondering what he ought to do.But they had seen him.They received him with a shout, and all thronged at once into the ante-room, and there took another look at his cloak.Akakiy Akakievitch, although somewhat confused, was frank-hearted, and could not refrain from rejoicing when he saw how they praised his cloak.Then, of course, they all dropped him and his cloak, and returned, as was proper, to the tables set out for whist.

All this, the noise, the talk, and the throng of people was rather overwhelming to Akakiy Akakievitch.He simply did not know where he stood, or where to put his hands, his feet, and his whole body.

Finally he sat down by the players, looked at the cards, gazed at the face of one and another, and after a while began to gape, and to feel that it was wearisome, the more so as the hour was already long past when he usually went to bed.He wanted to take leave of the host; but they would not let him go, saying that he must not fail to drink a glass of champagne in honour of his new garment.In the course of an hour, supper, consisting of vegetable salad, cold veal, pastry, confectioner's pies, and champagne, was served.They made Akakiy Akakievitch drink two glasses of champagne, after which he felt things grow livelier.

Still, he could not forget that it was twelve o'clock, and that he should have been at home long ago.In order that the host might not think of some excuse for detaining him, he stole out of the room quickly, sought out, in the ante-room, his cloak, which, to his sorrow, he found lying on the floor, brushed it, picked off every speck upon it, put it on his shoulders, and descended the stairs to the street.