whiskers and a shiny, shaven chin, wearing a bearskin coat. As he crossed the threshold he stopped, taken aback; he probably fancied he had come to the wrong place. > “How is this? Where am I?” he muttered, not removing his coat nor his peaked sealskin cap. The crowd, the poverty of the room, the washing hanging on a line in the corner, puzzled him. The captain, bent double, was bowing low before
“It’s here, sir, here, sir,” he muttered cringingly; “it’s here, you’ve come right, you were coming to us …”
“Sne-gi-ryov?” the doctor said loudly and pompously. “ Mr. Snegiryov—is that you?”
“That’s me, sir!”
“Ah!”
The doctor looked round the room with a squeamish air once more and threw off his coat, displaying to all eyes the grand decoration at his neck. The captain caught the fur coat in the air,