No More Learning

Marya Ivanofna pleased me more than usual. The thought that perhaps I
was seeing her for the last time gave her, in my eyes, a touching grace.

Chvabrine came in. I took him aside and told him about my interview with
Iwan Ignatiitch.

"Why any seconds? " he said to me, dryly. "We shall do very well without
them. "

We decided to fight on the morrow behind the haystacks, at six o'clock
in the morning.

Seeing us talking in such a friendly manner, Iwan Ignatiitch, full of
joy, nearly betrayed us.

"You should have done that long ago," he said to me, with a face of
satisfaction. "Better a hollow peace than an open quarrel. "

"What is that you say, Iwan Ignatiitch? " said the Commandant's wife, who
was playing patience in a corner. "I did not exactly catch what you
said. "

Iwan Ignatiitch, who saw my face darken, recollected his promise, became
confused, and did not know what to say.
Chvabrine came to the rescue.

"Iwan Ignatiitch," said he, "approves of the compact we have made. "

"And with whom, my little father, did you quarrel? "

"Why, with Petr' Andrejitch, to be sure, and we even got to high words. "

"What for? "

"About a mere trifle, over a little song. "

"Fine thing to quarrel over--a little song! How did it happen? "

"Thus. Petr' Andrejitch lately composed a song, and he began singing it
to me this morning. So I--I struck up mine, 'Captain's daughter, don't
go abroad at dead of night! ' As we did not sing in the same key, Petr'
Andrejitch became angry. But afterwards he reflected that 'every one is
free to sing what he pleases,' and that's all. "

Chvabrine's insolence made me furious, but no one else, except myself,
understood his coarse allusions. Nobody, at least, took up the subject.
From poetry the conversation passed to poets in general, and the
Commandant made the remark that they were all rakes and confirmed
drunkards; he advised me as a friend to give up poetry as a thing
opposed to the service, and leading to no good.