for a moment that I am in a position to turn around or gossip?"

"Without intending to, perhaps," Ostrodumov remarked.

"Neither with nor without intention! Miss Mashurina is looking at
me with a smile . . . but I say--"

"I am not smiling!" Mashurina burst out.

"But I say," Paklin went on, "that you have no tact. You are
utterly incapable of recognising your real friends. If a man can
laugh, then you think that he can't be serious--"

"Is it not so?" Mashurina snapped.

"You are in need of money, for instance," Paklin continued with
new force, paying no attention to Mashurina; "Nejdanov hasn't
any. I could get it for you."

Nejdanov wheeled round from the window.

"No, no. It is not necessary. I can get the money. I will draw
some of my allowance in advance. Now I recollect, they owe me
something. Let us look at the letter, Ostrodumov."

Ostrodumov remained motionless for a time, then he looked around,
stood up, bent down, turned up one of the legs of his trousers,
and carefully pulled a piece of blue paper out of his high boot,
blew at it for some reason or another, and handed it to Nejdanov.
The latter took the piece of paper, unfolded it, read it