"How are you?" he said brusquely as he extended a hairy hand. "What do you mean by lying in bed like a log? Presently it will be twelve o'clock, yet you are sprawling about on your back!" The other forestalled him by hurriedly slipping his feet into his slippers, or the new-comer would have pulled him out of bed.
"I was just about to rise," said Oblomov with a yawn.
"Yes; I know how you rise—how you go rolling about until lunch-time! Zakhar, come and help your master to dress!"
Zakhar entered and glared at Tarantiev. Raising himself on his elbow, Oblomov stepped from the bed like a man who is thoroughly worn out, and, dropping into an arm-chair, sat there without moving. Meanwhile Zakhar pomaded, parted, and combed his master's hair, and then asked him if he desired to wash.
"Presently," said Oblomov. "Do you wait a little."
"Ah! So you are here?" said Tarantiev suddenly as he turned to Alexiev.
"I had not seen you. By the way, what a swine is that kinsman of yours!"
"What kinsman?" inquired Alexiev with a stare. "I do not possess a single relative."
4
