LA CIGALE
I
TO Olga Ivanovna's wedding came all her friends and acquaintances.
“Look at him! Isn't it true there is something in him?” she said to them, nodding towards her husband, as if to justify her marriage to this simple, commonplace, in no way remarkable man.
The bridegroom, Osip Stepanuitch Duimoff, was a doctor, with the rank of Titular Councillor. He worked at two hospitals; in one as supernumerary ordinator; as dissector in the other. At one, from nine in the morning till midday, he received out-patients and worked in the wards; and, finished with this, he took a tram to the second hospital, and dissected bodies. His private practice was small, worth some five hundred roubles a year. That was all. What more could be said of him? On the other hand, Olga Ivanovna, her friends and acquaintances, were by no means ordinary. All were noted for something, and fairly well known; they had names; they were celebrated, or if not celebrated yet, they inspired great
