exception of Markelov, and they even clapped their hands.
'And do they feel', thought Nezhdanov directly the applause ceased, 'they are performing like some sort of buffoons? Perhaps they don't, and perhaps they do feel it and think "Where's the harm? no one's the worse for it; we amuse others, in fact!" And if you look at it properly, they 're right, a thousand times right!'
Under the influence of these reflections, he began suddenly paying them compliments, in acknowledgment of which they merely made a sort of slight curtsey, without leaving their chairs.. . . But at that instant, out of the adjoining room, probably a bedroom or maids'-room, where a great whispering and bustle had been audible a long while, appeared the dwarf, Pufka, escorted by the old nurse, Vassilyevna. Pufka proceeded to squeal and play antics, while the nurse one minute quieted her, and the next egged her on.
Markelov, who had long shown signs of impatience (as for Solomin, he simply wore a broader smile than usual) turned sharply upon Fomushka.
'I shouldn't have thought you,' he began in his abrupt fashion, 'with your enlightened intellect (you 're a follower of Voltaire, aren't
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