“He sprang up from his chair and turned away. His wife was crying in the corner; the child had begun to moan again. I pulled out my notebook and began writing in it. When I had finished and rose from my chair he was standing before me with an expression of alarmed curiosity.

“ ‘I have jotted down your name,’ I told him, ‘and all the rest of it⁠—the place you served at, the district, the date, and all. I have a friend, Bachmatoff, whose uncle is a councillor of state and has to do with these matters, one Peter Matveyevitch Bachmatoff.’

“ ‘Peter Matveyevitch Bachmatoff!’ he cried, trembling all over with excitement. ‘Why, nearly everything depends on that very man!’