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ries, I conclude that the salary is not fixed in accordance with the law of
supply and demand, but simply through personal interest. And this is
an abuse of great gravity in itself, and one that reacts injuriously on the
government service. I consider...”
Stepan Arkadyevitch made haste to interrupt his brother-in-law.
“Yes; but you must agree that it’s a new institution of undoubted
utility that’s being started. After all, you know, it’s a growing thing!
What they lay particular stress on is the thing being carried on hon-
estly,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch with emphasis.
But the Moscow significance of the word “honest” was lost on
Alexey Alexandrovitch.
“Honesty is only a negative qualification,” he said.
“Well, you’ll do me a great service, anyway,” said Stepan
Arkadyevitch, “by putting in a word to Pomorsky—just in the way of
conversation....”
“But I fancy it’s more in Volgarinov’s hands,” said Alexey
Alexandrovitch.
“Volgarinov has fully assented, as far as he’s concerned,” said Stepan
Arkadyevitch, turning red. Stepan Arkadyevitch reddened at the men-
tion of that name, because he had been that morning at the Jew
Volgarinov’s, and the visit had left an unpleasant recollection.
Stepan Arkadyevitch believed most positively that the committee
in which he was trying to get an appointment was a new, genuine, and
honest public body, but that morning when Volgarinov had— inten-
tionally, beyond a doubt—kept him two hours waiting with other peti-
tioners in his waiting room, he had suddenly felt uneasy.
Whether he was uncomfortable that he, a descendant of Rurik,
Prince Oblonsky, had been kept for two hours waiting to see a Jew, or
that for the first time in his life he was not following the example of his
ancestors in serving the government, but was turning off into a new
career, anyway he was very uncomfortable. During those two hours in
Volgarinov’s waiting room Stepan Arkadyevitch, stepping jauntily about
the room, pulling his whiskers, entering into conversation with the
other petitioners, and inventing an epigram on his position, assidu-
ously concealed from others, and even from himself, the feeling he was
experiencing.
But all the time he was uncomfortable and angry, he could not
have said why—whether because he could not get his epigram just
right, or from some other reason. When at last Volgarinov had received
him with exaggerated politeness and unmistakable triumph at his hu-
miliation, and had all but refused the favor asked of him, Stepan
Arkadyevitch had made haste to forget it all as soon as possible. And
now, at the mere recollection, he blushed.