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clean and who had an unusually flexible spine. There was no doubt whatever that this was Citizen Koro beynikov himself. Without waiting to be asked. Bender took a chair and sat down. The old man looked at Bender without saying a word, and Bender was the first to begin an amiable conversation. ‘ I have come to see you on a matter of business. You work, I understand, in the archives of the Adminis trative Department ? ’ The old man nodded. ‘ And before that you worked in the House Depart ment ? ’ ' I’ve worked everywhere,’ said the old man cheer fully. ‘ Perhaps in a Government office before the revolu tion ? ’ And Bender smiled amiably. The old man’s expression showed that he considered his pre-revolutionary services belonged to the past and were not to be spoken of now. ‘ But allow me to ask why you have come to see me ?' said the old man, looking at his guest with interest. ‘ Certainly. Certainly,’ answered the guest. ‘ I am Vorobianinov’s son.’ ‘ Now which one might that be ? The marshal of nobility ? ’ ‘ Exactly ! ’ ‘ Where is he ? Is he stiU alive ? ’ ‘No, he is dead,’ said Bender in a sorrowful voice. ‘ He has departed this hfe.’ ‘ Ah ! well,’ said the old man, without showing any particular signs of grief, ‘ it is sad news. But I didn’t know he had any children ? ’ ‘ He hadn’t,’ Bender confirmed amiably. ‘ But then----- ’ Oh 1 that’s nothing. I’m the son of a morganatic marriage.’ Perhaps you are Elena Bauer’s son ? ’ ‘ Yes, that’s it 1 ’
