'Give over playing the fool!' Nikolai Artemyevitch cried with heat.
'You forget yourself! Here you have another proof that I count for
nothing in this house, nothing!'

'Anna Vassilyevna ill-uses you . . . poor fellow!' said Shubin,
stretching. 'Ah, Nikolai Artemyevitch, we're a pair of sinners! You
had much better be getting a little present ready for Anna
Vassilyevna, It's her birthday in a day or two, and you know how she
appreciates the least attention on your part.'

'Yes, yes,' answered Nikolai Artemyevitch hastily. 'I'm much obliged
to you for reminding me. Of course, of course; to be sure. I have a
little thing, a dressing-case, I bought it the other day at
Rosenstrauch's; but I don't know really if it will do.'

'I suppose you bought it for her, the lady at Revel?'

'Why, certainly.--I had some idea.'

'Well, in that case, it will be sure to do.' Shubin got up from his
seat.

'Are we going out this evening, Pavel Yakovlitch, eh?' Nikolai
Artemyevitch asked with an amicable leer.

'Why yes, you are going to your club.'

'After the club ... after the club.'