to put myself on a par with him in his position; and, with absolute honesty, I assured him that I was very fond of cards and wine, and gossip about campaigns, and that I did not care to have any better comrades than those with whom I was associated. But he would not believe me.
"Well, you may say so," he continued; "but the lack of women's society, I mean, of course, femmes comme il faut,—is that not a terrible deprivation? I do n't know what I would give now to go into a parlor, if only for a moment, and to have a look at a pretty woman, even though it were through a crack."
He said nothing for a little, and drank still another glass of the red wine.
"Oh, my God, my God![1] If it only might be our fate to meet again, somewhere in Petersburg, to live and move among men, among ladies!"
He drank up the dregs of the wine still left in the bottle, and when he had finished it he said:
"Akh! pardon, maybe you wanted some more. It was horribly careless of me. However, I suppose I must have taken too much, and my head is n't very strong,[2] There was a time when I lived on Morskaia Street, au rez-de-chaussée, and had marvellous apartments, furniture, you know, and I was able to arrange it all beautifully, not
