roubles a month, they live in houses of their own and send their
girls to the high school, but you may swear at them and give yourself
airs as much as you please. For a rouble the engineer will gulp
down a whole pot of mustard and crow like a cock. On my honour, if
one of them would take offence I would make him a present of a
thousand roubles."

"What's the matter with you?" said Almer, looking at him with
surprise. "Whence this melancholy? You are red in the face, you
look like a wild animal. . . . What's the matter with you?"

"It's horrid. There's one thing I can't get out of my head. It seems
as though it is nailed there and it won't come out."

A round little old man, buried in fat and completely bald, wearing
a short reefer jacket and lilac waistcoat and carrying a guitar,
walked into the room. He made an idiotic face, drew himself up, and
saluted like a soldier.

"Ah, the parasite!" said Frolov, "let me introduce him, he has made
his fortune by grunting like a pig. Come here!" He poured vodka,
wine, and brandy into a glass, sprinkled pepper and salt into it,
mixed it all up and gave it to the parasite. The latter tossed it
off and smacked his lips with gusto.

"He's accustomed to drink a mess so that pure wine makes him sick,"
said Frolov. "Come, parasite, sit down and sing."

The old man sat down, touched the strings with his fat fingers, and
began singing: