kof had sprung. I wanted to tell him so, but his position constrained me.
"In the N. regiment the society of the officers is a thousand times worse than it is here," he continued. "I hope that it is saying a good deal; j'espère que c'est beaucoup dire; that is, you cannot imagine what it is. I am not speaking of the yunkers and the soldiers. That is horrible, it is so bad. At first they received me very kindly, that is absolutely the truth; but when they saw that I could not help despising them, you know, in these inconceivably small circumstances, they saw that I was a man absolutely different, standing far above them, they got angry with me, and began to put various little humiliations on me. You have n't an idea what I had to suffer.[1] Then this forced relationship with the yunkers, and especially with the small means that I had I lacked everything;[2] I had only what my sister used to send me. And here's a proof for you! As much as it made me suffer, I with my character, avec ma fierté j'ai écris à mon père, begged him to send me something. I understand how living four years of such a life may make a man like our cashiered Dromof who drinks with soldiers, and writes notes to all the officers asking them to loan him three rubles, and signing it, tout à vous, Dromof. One must have such a
