Fyodor Fedoritch turned his back on him and went homewards. Lutchkov looked after him with a grin.
Next day, directly after drill he went up to Kister again.
'Well, how are you getting on, Mr. Kinderbalsam?'
Kister was angry, and looked him straight in the face. Avdey Ivanovitch's little bilious eyes were gleaming with malignant glee.
'I'm addressing you, Mr. Kinderbalsam!'
'Sir,' Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid and ill-bred—do you hear?—stupid and ill-bred.'
'When shall we fight?' Lutchkov responded composedly.
'When you like,... to-morrow.'
Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister slightly, and to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went up to the wounded man, took him by the hand and begged his pardon. Kister had to keep indoors for a fortnight. Avdey Ivanovitch came several times to ask after him and on Fyodor Fedoritch's recovery made friends with him. Whether he was pleased by the young officer's pluck, or whether a feeling akin to remorse was roused in his soul—it's hard to say... but from the time of his duel with Kister, Avdey Ivanovitch scarcely left his side, and
