"What is the meaning of this?" he asked in a squeaky voice. "A
duet? Why not a trio? And where's the chief tenor?

"Do you mean Nejdanov, Mr. Paklin?" Ostrodumov asked solemnly.

"Yes, Mr. Ostrodumov."

"He will be back directly, Mr. Paklin."

"I am glad to hear that, Mr. Ostrodumov."

The little cripple turned to Mashurina. She frowned, and
continued leisurely puffing her cigarette.

"How are you, my dear . . . my dear . . . I am so sorry. I always
forget your Christian name and your father's name."

Mashurina shrugged her shoulders.

"There is no need for you to know it. I think you know my
surname. What more do you want? And why do you always keep on
asking how I am? You see that I am still in the land of the
living!"

"Of course!" Paklin exclaimed, his face twitching nervously. "If
you had been elsewhere, your humble servant would not have had
the pleasure of seeing you here, and of talking to you! My
curiosity is due to a bad, old-fashioned habit. But with regard
to your name, it is awkward, somehow, simply to say Mashurina. I
know that even in letters you only sign yourself Bonaparte! I beg