'By all means,' responded the sub-lieutenant, 'but . . . the presence of one of the principals . . .'
'I will leave you at once, gentlemen,' cried Sanin, and with a bow he went away into the bedroom and closed the door after him.
He flung himself on the bed and began thinking of Gemma . . . but the conversation of the seconds reached him through the shut door. It was conducted in the French language; both maltreated it mercilessly, each after his own fashion. Pantaleone again alluded to the dragoons in Padua, and Principe Tarbuski; the sub-lieutenant to 'exghizes léchères' and 'goups de bistolet à Vamiaple.' But the old man would not even hear of any exghizes! To Sanin's horror, he suddenly proceeded to talk of a certain young lady, an innocent maiden, whose little finger was worth more than all the officers in the world . . . (oune zeune damigella innoucenta, qu'a elle sola dans soun péti doa vale piu que tout le zouffissiké del mondo!), and repeated several times with heat: 'It's shameful! it's shameful!' (E ouna onta, ouna onta!) The sub-lieutenant at first made him no reply, but presently an angry quiver could be heard in the young man's voice, and he observed that he had not come there to listen to sermonising.
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