After his famous race the prince went off to Moscow, and there
continued to behave as he had done in Petersburg, only on a larger
scale. At one time the whole town talked of nothing but his caprices.
And it was there that something happened to him which caused all the
folks at Pneestcheva to mock. A woman came into his life.
But I must tell you what sort of a woman she was. A queen of women!
There are none like her in these days. Of a most marvellous beauty....
She had formerly been an actress, then she had married a merchant
millionaire, and when he died--she didn't want to marry anyone
else--she said that she preferred to be free.
What specially attracted the prince to her was her carelessness. She
didn't wish to know anyone, neither rich nor illustrious people, and
she seemed to think nothing of her own great wealth. As soon as Prince
Andrey saw her he fell in love with her. He was used to having women
run after him, and so he had very little respect for them. But in this
case the lady paid him no special attention at all. She was gay and
affable, she accepted his bouquets and his presents, but directly he
spoke of his feelings she laughed at him. The prince was stung by this
treatment. He nearly went out of his mind.
Once the prince went with Marya Gavrilovna--that was the lady's
name--to the _Yar,_ to hear some gipsy singers. The party numbered
fifteen. At that time the prince was surrounded and fawned upon by
a whole crowd of hangers-on--his Belonogof company, as he called
them--his own name was Belonogof. They were all seated at a table
drinking wine, and the gipsies were singing and dancing. Suddenly,
Marya Gavrilovna wanted to smoke. She took a _packetoska_--the sort of
twisted straw cigarette they used to smoke in those days--and looked
round for a light. The prince noticed this, and in a moment he pulled
out a bank-note for a thousand roubles, lighted it at a candle and
handed it to her. Everybody in the company exclaimed; the gipsies even
stopped singing, and their eyes gleamed with greed. And then someone
at a neighbouring table said, not very loudly, but with sufficient
distinctness, "Fool!"
The prince jumped up as if he had been shot. At the other table sat
a small sickly-looking man, who looked straight at the prince in the
calmest manner possible. The prince went over to him at once.
"How dare you call me a fool? Who are you?"
The little man regarded him very coolly.
"I," said he, "am the artist Rozanof. And I called you a fool because,
with that money you burnt just to show off, you might have paid for the
support of four sick people in the hospital for a whole year."
Everybody sat and waited for what would happen. The unrestrained
character of the prince was well known. Would he at once chastise
the little man, or call him out to a duel, or simply order him to be
whipped?
But, after a little silence, the prince suddenly turned to the artist
with these unexpected words:
"You're quite right, Mr. Rozanof. I did indeed act as a fool before
this crowd. But now if you don't at once give me your hand, and accept
five thousand roubles for the Marinskaya Hospital, I shall be deeply
offended."
And Rozanof answered: "I'll take the money, and I'll give you my hand
with equal pleasure."
Then Marya Gavrilovna whispered to the prince, "Ask the artist to come
and talk to us, and send away these friends of yours."
The prince turned politely to Rozanof and begged him to join them, and
then he turned to the officers and said, "Be off with you!"