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AT A SUMMER VILLA - Love and Other Stories
| | Page 121 of 123 | | |
Trembling all over and holding his breath, Pavel Ivanitch went up to the arbour, wreathed with ivy and wild vine, and peeped into it . . . . A smell of dampness and mildew reached him. . . .
"I believe there's nobody . . ." he thought, going into the arbour, and at once saw a human silhouette in the corner.
The silhouette was that of a man. . . . Looking more closely, Pavel Ivanitch recognised his wife's brother, Mitya, a student, who was staying with them at the villa.
"Oh, it's you . . ." he growled discontentedly, as he took off his hat and sat down.
"Yes, it's I" . . . answered Mitya.
Two minutes passed in silence.
"Excuse me, Pavel Ivanitch," began Mitya: "but might I ask you to leave me alone?? . . . I am thinking over the dissertation for my degree and . . . and the presence of anybody else prevents my thinking."
"You had better go somewhere in a dark avenue. . ." Pavel Ivanitch observed mildly. "It's easier to think in the open air, and, besides, . . . er . . . I should like to have a little sleep here on this seat. . . It's not so hot here. . . ."
"You want to sleep, but it's a question of my dissertation . . ." Mitya grumbled. "The dissertation is more important."
Again there was a silence. Pavel Ivanitch, who had given the rein to his imagination and was continually hearing footsteps, suddenly leaped up and said in a plaintive voice:
"Come, I beg you, Mitya! You are younger and ought to consider me . . . . I am unwell and . . . I need sleep. . . . Go away!"
"That's egoism. . . . Why must you be here and not I? I won't go as a matter of principle."
"Come, I ask you to! Suppose I am an egoist, a despot and a fool . . . but I ask you to go! For once in my life I ask you a favour! Show some consideration!"
Mitya shook his head.
"What a beast! . . ." thought Pavel Ivanitch. "That can't be a rendezvous with him here! It's impossible with him here!"
"I say, Mitya," he said, "I ask you for the last time. . . . Show that you are a sensible, humane, and cultivated man!"
"I don't know why you keep on so!" . . . said Mitya, shrugging his shoulders. "I've said I won't go, and I won't. I shall stay here as a matter of principle. . . ."
At that moment a woman's face with a turn-up nose peeped into the arbour. . . .
Seeing Mitya and Pavel Ivanitch, it frowned and vanished.
"She is gone!" thought Pavel Ivanitch, looking angrily at Mitya. "She saw that blackguard and fled! It's all spoilt!"
After waiting a little longer, he got up, put on his hat and said:
"You're a beast, a low brute and a blackguard! Yes! A beast! It's mean . . . and silly! Everything is at an end between us!"
"Delighted to hear it!" muttered Mitya, also getting up and putting on his hat. "Let me tell you that by being here just now you've played me such a dirty trick that I'll never forgive you as long as I live." 
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