on to betting on the games.

'And I, and I,' cried Viktor, and he jumped up and clapped his hands, 'I
hadn't more than six roubles in my pocket all the while. Fancy! And at
first I was completely cleaned out.... A nice position! Only then--in
answer to whose prayers I can't say--fortune smiled. The other fellow
began to get hot and kept showing all his cards.... In no time he'd lost
seven hundred and fifty roubles! He began begging me to go on playing,
but I'm not quite a fool, I fancy; no, one mustn't abuse such luck; I
popped on my hat and cut away. So now I've no need to eat humble pie
with the governor, and can treat my friends.... Hi waiter! Another
bottle! Gentlemen, let's clink glasses!'

We did clink glasses with Viktor, and continued drinking and laughing
with him, though his story was by no means to our liking, nor was his
society a source of any great satisfaction to us either. He began being
very affable, playing the buffoon, unbending, in fact, and was more
loathsome than ever. Viktor noticed at last the impression he was making
on us, and began to get sulky; his remarks became more disconnected and
his looks gloomier. He began yawning, announced that he was sleepy, and
after swearing with his characteristic coarseness at the waiter for a
badly cleaned pipe, he suddenly accosted Fustov, with a challenging
expression on his distorted face.

'I say, Alexander Daviditch,' said he, 'you tell me, if you please, what
do you look down on me for?'

'How so?' My friend was momentarily at a loss for a reply.

'I'll tell you how.... I'm very well aware that you look down on me, and