whether there can be any jealousy without love—What?" he asked, looking at all of us.
"I say!" said Bolkhóv, smiling.
"Yes, you see, it is good in Russia," he continued, as though his phrases naturally proceeded each from the previous one. "When I was in Tambóv in '52, I was everywhere received like an aid-de-camp. Will you believe me, at the governor's ball, when I entered, don't you know, I was beautifully received. The wife of the governor, you know, talked with me and asked me about the Caucasus, and all—really I did not know— They looked at my gold sabre as at a rarity, and they asked me what I got the sabre for, and for what the Anna cross, and for what the Vladímir cross, and I told them—What?—This is what the Caucasus is good for, Nikoláy Fédorovich!" he continued, not waiting for an answer. "There they look at us, Caucasus officers, very well. Young man, you know, a staff-officer with an Anna and a Vladímir cross,—that means a great deal in Russia—What?"
"I suppose you did a little bragging, Abrám Ilích?" said Bolkhóv.
"He-he!" he laughed his stupid smile. "You know one must do that. And I did feast during those two months!"
"Is it nice there, in Russia?" asked Trosénko, inquiring about Russia as though it were China or Japan.
"Yes, it was an awful lot of champagne we drank during those two months!"
"I don't believe it. You must have drunk lemonade. If I had been there, I would have burst drinking, just to show them how officers of the Caucasus drink. My reputation would not be for nothing. I would have showed them how to drink—Hey, Bolkhóv?" he added.
"But you, uncle, have been for ten years in the Caucasus," said Bolkhóv, "and do you remember
