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groans. The doctor, from the very nature of his being, could
not spend an evening except at cards. Nikolay Parfenovitch
Nelyudov had been intending for three days past to drop in
that evening at Mihail Makarovitch’s, so to speak casually,
so as slyly to startle the eldest granddaughter, Olga Mi-
hailovna, by showing that he knew her secret, that he knew
it was her birthday, and that she was trying to conceal it on
purpose, so as not to be obliged to give a dance. He antici-
pated a great deal of merriment, many playful jests about
her age, and her being afraid to reveal it, about his knowing
her secret and telling everybody, and so on. The charming
young man was a great adept at such teasing; the ladies had
christened him ‘the naughty man,’ and he seemed to be de-
lighted at the name. He was extremely well-bred, however,
of good family, education and feelings, and, though lead-
ing a life of pleasure, his sallies were always innocent and
in good taste. He was short, and delicate-looking. On his
white, slender, little fingers he always wore a number of big,
glittering rings. When he was engaged in his official duties,
he always became extraordinarily grave, as though realis-
ing his position and the sanctity of the obligations laid upon
him. He had a special gift for mystifying murderers and
other criminals of the peasant class during interrogation,
and if he did not win their respect, he certainly succeeded
in arousing their wonder.
Pyotr Ilyitch was simply dumbfounded when he went
into the police captain’s. He saw instantly that everyone
knew. They had positively thrown down their cards, all
were standing up and talking. Even Nikolay Parfenovitch