and the table . . . the table was filled with bottles and food . . . and a big fat sturgeon . . . from one corner to the other . . . lobster . . . caviar. You’d have thought it was a restaurant!”

I entered into the drawing room; it happened to be the day on which news had just reached Moscow by wire that the Skopin Bank had collapsed.

After we were introduced, Nasechkin said to me: “I am rejoicing in the company of these sweet children!” And, turning back to them, continued proudly: “Not to mention, you only find the best society in Skopin . . . government officials, men of the cloth . . . priests, monks . . . with every glass of vodka, you get a blessing then and there . . . and the host was covered in so many medals that even a general would have gasped! The moment we finished the sturgeon they brought out another! We ate that one too. And then they brought out some fish soup . . . pheasants!”

“If I were in your shoes,” I told the captain, “I would be having heartburn at today’s news, but I must say I am amazed how well you are taking things. Did you lose a lot of money with Rikov?”

“What do you mean, ‘lose’?”

“Lose money—when the bank collapsed!”

“Poppycock! Balderdash! Old wives’ tales!”

“You mean you haven’t heard the news? Good Lord, Captain Nasechkin! But that is . . . that is absolutely . . . Here, read this!”

I handed him the newspaper I had in my pocket. Nasechkin put on his spectacles and, smiling dismissively, began to read. The further he read, the paler and gaunter his face grew.

“It has co-co-collapsed!” he gasped, all his limbs beginning to quake. “Oh the calamities raining down on my poor head!”

Grisha’s face flushed a deep purple. He read the article and turned white. His hand trembling, he fumbled for his hat. His fiancée tottered.

“My God!” I exclaimed. “Are you telling me that none of you knew? The whole of Moscow is agog!”

An hour later I was alone with the captain, still trying to comfort him.

“Don’t worry, Captain Nasechkin! It isn’t the end of the world! You may have lost all your money, but you still have your darling nephew and his fiancée!”

“How right you are! Money brings trouble . . . but I still have those dear children . . . yes!”

But alas! A week later I ran into Grisha.

“Why don’t you go see your poor uncle?” I asked him. “You really should—he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of you!”

“He can go to hell for all I care!” Grisha said. “The old fool! Couldn’t he have found himself a better bank?”

“Still, you ought to go see him! He’s your uncle after all!”

“Him? You must be joking! What gave you that idea? He’s my stepmother’s third cousin thrice removed!

“Well, at least send your fiancée to see him.”

“Yes, and as for that—I don’t know why the devil you had to show her that newspaper before our wedding day! She’s shown me the door. She was waiting to pounce on my uncle’s goods and chattel too, the silly fool! You can imagine how disappointed she is!”

I realized that, without meaning to, I had destroyed a most idyllic trio.

A DOCTOR’S ROMANCE

On achieving physical maturity and bringing one’s studies to completion, it is fitting to opt for feminam unam in addition to a dowry quantum satis.

That is precisely what I did: I took feminam unam (taking two wives is prohibited) as well as a dowry.