"Tell me something. You are not angry?" said he to her.
She silently sank back into her corner, but suddenly, for some reason or other, burst into tears, and let her head fall on his breast.
The newly elected isprávnik, with his company, the cavalryman, and other members of the nobility, had already been listening for some time to the gypsies, and drinking at the new tavern, when the count, in a blue-lined bear-skin shuba which had belonged to Anna Fedorovna's late husband, joined them.
"Little father, your excellency! we have almost given up expecting you," said a squint-eyed black gypsy with brilliant teeth, who met him in the entry and divested him of his shuba. "We haven't met since we were at Lebedyan.... Stioshka has pined away on account of you."
Stioshka, a slender young gypsy-girl[67] with a cherry red bloom on her cinnamon-colored cheeks, with brilliant deep black eyes, shaded by long eyelashes, also hurried to meet him.
"Ah! dear little count![68] my sweetheart! This is a pleasure," she exclaimed through her teeth, with a joyous smile.
Ilyushka himself came to greet Turbin, pretending that he was very glad to see him. The old women, the wives, the young girls, hastened to the spot and surrounded the guest.
One would have said that he was a relative or a god-brother to them.
Turbin kissed all the young gypsy girls on the lips; the old women and the men kissed him on the shoulder or on the hand.
The gentlemen were also very glad of the count's arrival; the more because the festivity, having passed its apogee, was now becoming tame; every one began to feel a sense of satiety. The wine, having lost its exhilarating effect on the nerves, only served to load the stomach. Everybody had discharged the last cannon of his wildness, and was looking around moodily. All the songs had been sung, and ran in the heads of each, leaving a mere impression of noise and confusion.
Whatever any one did that was strange and wild, the rest began to look upon it as nothing very entertaining or amusing.
The isprávnik stretched out on the floor in shameless fashion at the feet of some old woman, kicked his leg in the air, and began to cry,--
"Champagne!... The count has come!... Champagne!... He has come!... Now give us champagne!... I will make a bath of champagne, and swim in it! Gentlemen of the nobility, I love your admirable society!... Stioshka, sing 'The Narrow Road.'"