"Onuphriy Zakharich, pour out
for us again ... one ... two, three, four ... nine glasses of
cognac..."
"Oh no, you can't do that ... you are our guest, colleague,"
remonstrated Lichonin.
"Well, now, what sort of colleague am I to you?" good-naturedly
laughed the reporter. "I was only in the first class and then only
for half a year--as an unmatriculated student. Here you are,
Onuphriy Zakharich. Gentlemen, I beg you..."
The upshot of it was that after half an hour Lichonin and
Yarchenko did not under any consideration want to part with the
reporter and dragged him with them to Yama. However, he did not
resist.
"If I am not a burden to you, I would be very glad," he said
simply. "All the more since I have easy money to-day. THE DNIEPER
WORD has paid me an honorarium, and this is just as much of a
miracle as winning two hundred thousand on a check from a theatre
coat room. Pardon me, I'll be right back..."
He walked up to the old man with whom he had been sitting before,
shoved some money into his hand, and gently took leave of him.
"Where I'm going, grandpa, there you mustn't go--to-morrow we will
meet in the same place as to-day.
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