PART I
9. CHAPTER IX.
(continued)
The general dropped his eyes, and elevated his brows; shrugged
his shoulders, tightened his lips, spread his hands, and remained
silent. At last he blurted out:
"I lost my head!"
"Did you hit her?"
"No, oh no!--there was a great flare-up, but I didn't hit her! I
had to struggle a little, purely to defend myself; but the very
devil was in the business. It turned out that 'light blue' was an
Englishwoman, governess or something, at Princess Bielokonski's,
and the other woman was one of the old-maid princesses
Bielokonski. Well, everybody knows what great friends the
princess and Mrs. Epanchin are, so there was a pretty kettle of
fish. All the Bielokonskis went into mourning for the poodle. Six
princesses in tears, and the Englishwoman shrieking!
"Of course I wrote an apology, and called, but they would not
receive either me or my apology, and the Epanchins cut me, too!"
"But wait," said Nastasia. "How is it that, five or six days
since, I read exactly the same story in the paper, as happening
between a Frenchman and an English girl? The cigar was snatched
away exactly as you describe, and the poodle was chucked out of
the window after it. The slapping came off, too, as in your case;
and the girl's dress was light blue!"
The general blushed dreadfully; Colia blushed too; and Ptitsin
turned hastily away. Ferdishenko was the only one who laughed as
gaily as before. As to Gania, I need not say that he was
miserable; he stood dumb and wretched and took no notice of
anybody.
"I assure you," said the general, "that exactly the same thing
happened to myself!"
"I remembered there was some quarrel between father and Miss
Smith, the Bielokonski's governess," said Colia.
"How very curious, point for point the same anecdote, and
happening at different ends of Europe! Even the light blue dress
the same," continued the pitiless Nastasia. "I must really send
you the paper."
|