Humid airs floated towards him from the garden where grass and foliage
gained new lustre in the evening dew. The strong odour of tobacco was
an inducement to sneeze.
"Good evening," said Sanine, leaning on the windowsill. "Good evening."
"To-day I have been challenged to fight a duel," said Sanine.
"What fun!" replied Ivanoff carelessly. "With whom, and why?"
"With Sarudine. I turned him out of the house, and he considers himself
insulted."
"Oho! Then you'll have to meet him," said Ivanoff. "I'll be your
second, and you shall shoot his nose off."
"Why? The nose is a noble part of one's physiognomy. I am not going to
fight," rejoined Sanine, laughing.
Ivanoff nodded.
"A good thing, too. Duelling is quite unnecessary."
"My sister Lida doesn't think so," said Sanine.
"Because she's a goose," replied Ivanoff. "What a lot of tomfoolery
people choose to believe, don't they?"
So saying, he finished making the last cigarette, which he lighted,
putting the others in his leather cigarette-case.
Then he blew away the tobacco left on the window-sill, and, vaulting
over it, joined Sanine.
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