"Tell me," inquired Yosef on a time, "what do they say of my action with Augustinovich?"
"Some pay thee homage," answered Vasilkevich; "others laugh. I visited one of thy opponents on behalf of our library; I found there no small crowd, and they were just speaking of thee and Augustinovich. But dost thou know who defended thee most warmly?"
"Well, who was it?"
"Guess."
"Lolo Karvovski."
"No, not he."
"As God lives, I cannot imagine."
"Gustav."
"Gustav?"
"Ah, he told those who were laughing at thee so many agreeable facts—they will not forget them soon, I guarantee that. Thou knowest how well he can do such things. I thought that the deuce would take them."
"I should not have expected this of Gustav."
"I had not seen him for a long time. Oh, he has sunk in that wretched love to the ears. But he is a strong fellow—and I am sorry for him. Tell me, thou art more skilled in this than I am: is he very sick?"
"Oh, he is not well."
"What is it? asthma?"
