"It's fine--your coming into our
modest wigwam. This will refresh us and implant in our midst quiet
and decent customs. Alexandra! Be-er!" he began to call loudly.
"We've grown wild, coarse; have become mired in foul speech,
drunkenness, laziness and other vices. And all because we were
deprived of the salutary, pacifying influence of feminine society.
Once again I press your hand. Your charming, little hand. Beer!"
"Coming," the displeased voice of Alexandra could be heard on the
other side of the door. "I'm coming. What you yelling for? How
much do you want?"
Soloviev went out into the corridor to explain. Lichonin smiled
after him gratefully; while the Georgian on his way slapped him
benignly on the back, between his shoulder blades. Both understood
and appreciated the belated, somewhat coarse delicacy of Soloviev.
"Now," said Soloviev, coming back into the room and sitting down
cautiously upon an ancient chair, "now let's come to the order of
the day. Can I be of service to you in any way? If you'll give me
half an hour's time, I'll run down to the coffee house for a
minute and lick the guts out of the very best chess player there.
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