“We do not want at all, perhaps⁠ ⁠…”

They went away. Ferfitchkin did not greet me in any way as he went out, Trudolyubov barely nodded. Simonov, with whom I was left tête-à-tête, was in a state of vexation and perplexity, and looked at me queerly. He did not sit down and did not ask me to.

“H’m⁠ ⁠… yes⁠ ⁠… tomorrow, then. Will you pay your subscription now? I just ask so as to know,” he muttered in embarrassment.

I flushed crimson, as I did so I remembered that I had owed Simonov fifteen roubles for ages⁠—which I had, indeed, never forgotten, though I had not paid it.

“You will understand, Simonov, that I could have no idea when I came here.⁠ ⁠… I am very much vexed that I have forgotten.⁠ ⁠…”

“All right, all right, that doesn’t matter. You can pay tomorrow after the dinner. I simply wanted to know.⁠ ⁠… Please don’t⁠ ⁠…”