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I am going
to see her tomorrow. And if it is a man--I won't go tomorrow, I'll
wait."
But it was a dog that came to meet him, and this irritated Foma to
such an extent that he felt like striking him with his cane.
In the refreshment-room of the club, Foma was met by the jovial
Ookhtishchev. He stood at the door, and chatted with a certain
stout, whiskered man; but, noticing Gordyeeff, he came forward to
meet him, saying, with a smile:
"How do you do, modest millionaire!" Foma rather liked him for his
jolly mood, and was always pleased to meet him.
Firmly and kind-heartedly shaking Ookhtishchev's hand, Foma asked
him:
"And what makes you think that I am modest?"
"What a question! A man, who lives like a hermit, who neither
drinks, nor plays, nor likes any women. By the way, do you know,
Foma Ignatyevich, that peerless patroness of ours is going abroad
tomorrow for the whole summer?"
"Sophya Pavlovna?" asked Foma, slowly. "Of course! The sun of my
life is setting. And, perhaps, of yours as well?"
Ookhtishchev made a comical, sly grimace and looked into Foma's
face.


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