. . Let us drink to the health of Aristid
Kuvalda . . . the only friend who has never deserted me for one
moment of my life! Devil take him all the same! I might have had
something to wear had he left my society at least for a little
while."
"You are bitter . . ." said Abyedok, and coughed.
The Captain, with his feeling of superiority to the others, never
talked with his mouth full.
Having drunk twice, the company began to grow merry; the food was
grateful to them.
Paltara Taras expressed his desire to hear a tale, but the Deacon
was arguing with Kubaroff over his preferring thin women to stout
ones, and paid no attention to his friend's request. He was
asserting his views on the subject to Kubaroff with all the
decision of a man who was deeply convinced in his own mind.
The foolish face of Meteor, who was lying on the ground, showed
that he was drinking in the Deacon's strong words.
Martyanoff sat, clasping his large hairy hands round his knees,
looking silently and sadly at the bottle of vodki and pulling his
moustache as if trying to bite it with his teeth, while Abyedok
was teasing Tyapa.
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