conciliatory expression as he watched him from the window. On overtaking him he smiled timidly, but it was not his old drunken smile; he was actually not drunk.
"Good-evening," he said.
"Good-evening," answered Velchaninov
CHAPTER XI
Pavel Pavlovitch Means to Marry
As he responded with this "good-evening," he was surprised at himself. It struck him as extremely strange that he met this man now without a trace of anger, and that in his feeling for him at that moment there was something quite different, and actually, indeed, a sort of impulse towards something new.
"What an agreeable evening," observed Pavel Pavlovitch, looking into his face.
"You've not gone away yet," Velchaninov observed, not by way of a question, but simply making that reflection aloud as he walked on.
"Things have dragged on, but—I've obtained a post with an increase of salary. I shall be going away the day after to-morrow for certain,"
"You've got a post?" he said this time, asking a question.
"Why shouldn't I?" Pavel Pavlovitch screwed up his face.
"Oh, I only asked . . ." Velchaninov said, disclaiming the insinuation, and, with a frown, he looked askance at Pavel Pavlovitch.
To his surprise, the attire, the hat with the crape band and the whole appearance of M. Trusotsky were incomparably more presentable than they had been a fortnight before.
"What was he sitting in that tavern for?" he kept wondering.
"I was intending, Alexey Ivanovitch, to communicate with you on a subject for rejoicing," Pavel Pavlovitch began again.
"Rejoicing?"
"I'm going to get married."
"What?"
"After sorrow comes rejoicing, so it is always in life: I should be so gratified, Alexey Ivanovitch, if . . . but—I don't know, perhaps you’re in a hurry now, for you appear to be . . ."
