gesture, stroked his mustache and lightly touched his hat.
“ Bonjour, la compagnie! ” said he gaily, smiling and looking about him.
No one gave any reply.
“ Vous êtes le bourgeois? ” the officer asked Gerásim.
Gerásim gazed at the officer with an alarmed and inquiring look.
“ Quartier, quartier, logement! ” said the officer, looking down at the little man with a condescending and good-natured smile.
“ Les français sont de bons enfants. Que diable! Voyons! Ne nous fâchons pas, mon vieux! ” added he, clapping the scared and silent Gerásim on the shoulder.
“Well, does no one speak French in this establishment?” he asked again in French, looking around and meeting Pierre’s eyes.
Pierre moved away from the door.
Again the officer turned to Gerásim and asked him to show him the rooms in the house.
“Master, not here—don’t understand …