“H’m, it’s like her, and good,” declared Mark. He told himself that Raisky had talent. “And it would be excellent, but the head is too large in proportion and the shoulders a trifle broad.”
“I like best the lightly-observed background and accessories, from which the figure detaches itself light, gay, and transparent. You have found the secret of Marfinka’s figure. The tone suits her hair and her complexion.”
Raisky recognised that he had taste and comprehension, and wondered if he were really an artist in a disguise.
“Where have you met my cousins? You do not come to the house.”
“At church? But they say you never look inside a church.”
“I don’t exactly remember where I have seen them, in the village, in the field.”
Raisky concluded his guest was a drunkard, as he drunk down glass after glass of punch. Mark guessed his thoughts.
“You think it extraordinary that I should drink. I do it out of sheer boredom, because I am idle and have no occupation. But don’t be afraid that I shall set the house on fire or murder anybody. To-day I am drinking more than usual because I am tired and cold. But I am not a drunkard.”
“It depends on ourselves whether we are idle or not.”
“When you climbed over Leonti’s fence, I thought you were a sensible individual, but now I see that you belong to the same kind of preaching person as Niel Andreevich....”
“Is it true that you fired on him?” asked Raisky curiously.
“What nonsense! I fired a shot among the pigeons to empty the barrel of my gun, as I was returning from hunting. He came up and shouted that I should stop, because it was sinful. If he had been content with protesting I should merely have called him a fool, and there it would have ended. But he began to stamp and to threaten, ‘I will have you put in prison, you ruffian, and will have you locked up where not even the raven will bring you a bone.’ I allowed him to run through the whole gamut of polite remarks, and listened calmly--and then I ‘took aim at him.’”
“Ducked, lost his stick and goloshes, finally squatted on the ground and whimpered for forgiveness. I shot into the air. That’s all.”
“A pretty distraction,” commented Raisky ironically.
“No distraction,” said Mark seriously. “There was more in it, a badly-needed lesson for the old boy.”