“How about today? will nothing happen today?” Miháylof asked shyly, looking first at Kaloúgin and then at Gáltsin.

No one replied. Prince Gáltsin only puckered up his face in a curious way, and looking over Miháylof’s cap, said, after a short silence⁠—

“Fine girl that, with the red kerchief. Don’t you know her, Captain?”

“She lives near my lodgings, she’s a sailor’s daughter,” answered the Lieutenant-Captain.

“Come, let’s have a good look at her.”

And Prince Gáltsin gave one of his arms to Kaloúgin and the other to the Lieutenant-Captain, knowing he would thereby confer great pleasure on the latter, as was really the case.