"Get out of my way! I insist upon it, I won't."
And he turned away to look after his ball.
Nekhliudof went up to him, and took him by the arm.
"You're a boor," says he, "my dear sir."
Though he was a slender young fellow, almost like a girl, still he was all
ready for a quarrel. His eyes flash fire; he looks as if he could eat him
alive. The big guest was a strong, tremendous fellow, no match for
Nekhliudof.
"Wha-at!" says he, "you call me a boor?" Yelling out these words, he raises
his hand to strike him.
Then everybody there rushed up, and seized them both by the arms, and
separated them.
After much talk, Nekhliudof says, "Let him give me satisfaction: he has
insulted me."
"Not at all," said the other. "I don't care a whit about any satisfaction.
He's nothing but a boy, a mere nothing. I'll pull his ears for him."
"If you aren't willing to give me satisfaction, then you are no gentleman."
And, saying this, he almost cried.
"Well, and you, you are a little boy: nothing you say or do can offend me."
Well, we separated them,--led them off, as the custom is, to different
rooms. Nekhliudof and the prince were friends.
"Go," says the former; "for God's sake make him listen to reason."
The prince went. The big man says, "I ain't afraid of any one," says he. "I
am not going to have any explanation with such a baby. I won't do it, and
that's the end of it."
Well, they talked and talked, and then the matter died out, only the big
guest ceased to come to us any more.
As a result of this,--this row, I might call it,--he was regarded as quite
the cock of the walk. He was quick to take offence,--I mean Nekhliudof,--as
to so many other things, however, he was as unsophisticated as a new-born
babe.