Then everybody there rushed up, and seized them both by the arms, and separated them.
After much talk, Nekhliudof says, “Let him give me satisfaction: he has insulted me.”
“Not at all,” said the other. “I don’t care a whit about any satisfaction. He’s nothing but a boy, a mere nothing. I’ll pull his ears for him.”
“If you aren’t willing to give me satisfaction, then you are no gentleman.”
And, saying this, he almost cried.
“Well, and you, you are a little boy: nothing you say or do can offend me.”
Well, we separated them—led them off, as the custom is, to different rooms. Nekhliudof and the prince were friends.
“Go,” says the former; “for God’s sake make him listen to reason.”
The prince went. The big man says, “I ain’t afraid of anyone,” says he. “I am not going to have any explanation with such a baby. I won’t do it, and that’s the end of it.”
Well, they talked and talked, and then the matter died out, only the big guest ceased to come to us anymore.
As a result of this—this row, I might call it—he was regarded as quite the cock of the walk. He was quick to take offence—I mean Nekhliudof—as to so many other things, however, he was as unsophisticated as a newborn babe.
I remember once, the prince says to Nekhliudof, “Whom do you keep here?”