"I should rather. But never mind, we can read it together
presently."

"You need not doubt what I say. I am speaking the truth,"
Ostrodumov grumbled.

"I do not doubt it in the least." They both ceased speaking and,
as before, clouds of smoke rose silently from their mouths and
curled feebly above their shaggy heads.

A sound of goloshes was heard from the passage.

"There he is," Mashurina whispered.

The door opened slightly and a head was thrust in, but it was not
the head of Nejdanov.

It was a round head with rough black hair, a broad wrinkled
forehead, bright brown eyes under thick eyebrows, a snub nose and
a humorously-set mouth. The head looked round, nodded, smiled,
showing a set of tiny white teeth, and came into the room with
its feeble body, short arms, and bandy legs, which were a little
lame. As soon as Mashurina and Ostrodumov caught sight of this
head, an expression of contempt mixed with condescension came
over their faces, as if each was thinking inwardly, "What a
nuisance!" but neither moved nor uttered a single word. The newly
arrived guest was not in the least taken aback by this reception,
however; on the contrary it seemed to amuse him.