Two days later, Insarov in accordance with his promise arrived at
Bersenyev's with his luggage. He had no servant; but without any
assistance he put his room to rights, arranged the furniture, dusted
and swept the floor. He had special trouble with the writing table,
which would not fit into the recess in the wall assigned for it; but
Insarov, with the silent persistence peculiar to him succeeded in
getting his own way with it. When he had settled in, he asked
Bersenyev to let him pay him ten roubles in advance, and arming
himself with a thick stick, set off to inspect the country surrounding
his new abode. He returned three hours later; and in response to
Bersenyev's invitation to share his repast, he said that he would not
refuse to dine with him that day, but that he had already spoken to
the woman of the house, and would get her to send him up his meals for
the future.

'Upon my word!' said Bersenyev, 'you will fare very badly; that old
body can't cook a bit. Why don't you dine with me, we would go halves
over the cost.'

'My means don't allow me to dine as you do,' Insarov replied with a
tranquil smile.

There was something in that smile which forbade further insistence;
Bersenyev did not add a word. After dinner he proposed to Insarov that
he should take him to the Stahovs; but he replied that he had
intended to devote the evening to correspondence with his Bulgarians,
and so he would ask him to put off the visit to the Stahovs till next
day. Bersenyev was already familiar with Insarov's unbending will;
but it was only now when he was under the same roof with him, that he
fully realised at last that Insarov would never alter any decision,