"Yes, but most remarkable of all is the fact that I do not at all
have the honour of knowing this artist of the metropolitan
theatres. However, there's something else written on the reverse
of this card. Judging by the handwriting, it was written by a man
greatly drunk and little lettered.
"'I dreenk'--not drink, but dreenk," explained Yarchenko. "'I
dreenk to the health of the luminary of Russian science, Gavrila
Petrovich Yarchenko, whom I saw by chance when I was passing by
through the collidor. Would like to clink glasses together
personally. If you do not remember, recollect the National
Theatre, Poverty Is No Disgrace, and the humble artist who played
African.' "Yes, that's right," said Yarchenko. "Once, somehow,
they saddled me with the arrangement of this benefit performance
in the National Theatre. Also, there dimly glimmers some clean-
shaven haughty visage, but ... What shall it be, gentlemen?"
Lichonin answered good-naturedly:
"Why, drag him here. Perhaps he's funny."
"And you?" the sub-professor turned to Platonov.
"It's all the same to me.
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