career lies open before you, like a long Chinese puzzle, and you
can read it from beginning to end. What has he been doing these two
years that he has been living here? We will reckon his doings on
our fingers. First, he has taught the inhabitants of the town to
play _vint_: two years ago that game was unknown here; now they all
play it from morning till late at night, even the women and the
boys. Secondly, he has taught the residents to drink beer, which
was not known here either; the inhabitants are indebted to him for
the knowledge of various sorts of spirits, so that now they can
distinguish Kospelov's vodka from Smirnov's No. 21, blindfold.
Thirdly, in former days, people here made love to other men's wives
in secret, from the same motives as thieves steal in secret and not
openly; adultery was considered something they were ashamed to make
a public display of. Laevsky has come as a pioneer in that line;
he lives with another man's wife openly. . . . Fourthly . . ."

Von Koren hurriedly ate up his soup and gave his plate to the
orderly.

"I understood Laevsky from the first month of our acquaintance,"
he went on, addressing the deacon. "We arrived here at the same
time. Men like him are very fond of friendship, intimacy, solidarity,
and all the rest of it, because they always want company for _vint_,
drinking, and eating; besides, they are talkative and must have
listeners. We made friends--that is, he turned up every day,
hindered me working, and indulged in confidences in regard to his
mistress. From the first he struck me by his exceptional falsity,
which simply made me sick. As a friend I pitched into him, asking
him why he drank too much, why he lived beyond his means and got
into debt, why he did nothing and read nothing, why he had so little