"
Yourii and Sanine also looked in at the window and saw heads moving in
a dim cloud of blue smoke. A broad-shouldered man with curly hair leant
over the sill and called out, "Who's there?"
"Friends!" replied Yourii.
As they went up the steps they pushed against some one who shocks hands
with them in friendly fashion.
"I was afraid that you wouldn't come!" said a cheery voice in a strong
Jewish accent.
"Soloveitchik--Sanine," said Von Deitz, introducing the two, and
grasping the former's cold, trembling hand.
Soloveitchik laughed nervously.
"So pleased to meet you!" he said. "I have heard so much about you,
and, you know--" He stumbled backwards still holding Sanine's hand. In
doing so he fell Against Yourii, and trod on Von Deitz's foot.
"I beg your pardon, Jakof Adolfovitch!" he exclaimed, as he proceeded
to shake Von Deitz's hand with great energy. Thus it was some time
before in the darkness they could find the door. In the ante-room, on
tows of nails put up specially for this evening by orderly
Soloveitchik, hung hats and caps, while close to the window were dark
green bottles containing beer.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302