"I beg your pardon," he said.

One of the members of the court, wearing gold eye-glasses, of medium
height, with high shoulders and frowning countenance, entered.

"Matvei Nikitich is late again," said the newcomer, with an air of
displeasure.

"Yes," said the presiding judge, donning his robes. "He is always
late."

"It is a shame," said the member, and sat down angrily, then lighted a
cigarette.

This member of the court, a very punctilious man, had this morning had
an unpleasant encounter with his wife, which was caused by her
spending her monthly allowance before the month was up. She asked for
a sum of money in advance, and he refused. The result was a quarrel.
She said that unless he gave her the money there would be no dinner
that night, and that he would have to dine outside. He departed in
fear that she would carry out her threat, as anything might be
expected from her.

"Is it worth while leading a good, moral life?" he thought, as he
looked at the beaming, healthy, joyful and good-natured presiding
justice, who, spreading his elbows, stroked his long, gray whiskers;
"he is always contented and cheerful, while I am suffering."

The secretary entered and handed the presiding justice a document.