Aleksandr Kuprin - The Garnet Bracelet and other Stories / Гранатовый браслет и другие повести. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“I feel shabby, doctor, I feel terrible,” said Bobrov softly as he mechanically followed Goldberg who was pulling him away.

“Nonsense, come along! Be a man, snap your fingers at the whole thing. ‘Would your heart be aching sorely, or your conscience put to test?’ “ he recited, putting his arm round Bobrov in a strong friendly embrace and looking affectionately into his eyes. “I’m going to prescribe a universal remedy: ‘Lets have a drink, friend Vanya, to warm our hearts!’ To tell you the truth, I’ve had a fair load of cognac with that man Andreas. How he drinks, that son of a gun! Come, be a man. You know, Andreas is very much interested in you. Come on!”

As he spoke the doctor dragged Bobrov into the pavilion. They sat down side by side. Bobrov’s other table companion turned out to be Andreas.

He had been smiling at Bobrov from some way off; now he made room for him to sit down and patted his back affectionately.

“Very glad to have you here with us,” he said in a friendly voice. “You’re a nice chap – the sort of man I like. Cognac?”

He was drunk. His glassy eyes shone with a strange light in his pale face. Not until six months later was it discovered that every evening this irreproachably reserved, hard-working, gifted man drank himself unconscious in complete solitude.

“I might really feel better if I had a drink,” Bobrov thought. “I must try, damn it!”

Andreas was waiting, holding the bottle tilted and ready. Bobrov put up a tumbler.

“Want to use that?” asked Andreas, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes,” replied Bobrov, with a meek, melancholy smile.

“Good! Say when.”

“The glass’ll say.”

“Splendid. One might think you’d served in the Swedish Navy. Enough?”

“Keep pouring.”

“But, my friend, don’t forget this is Martel of the VSOP brand – real, strong old cognac.”

“Keep pouring – don’t worry.”

“Well, suppose I do get soaked,” he said to himself with malice. “Let her see it.”

The glass was full. Andreas put down the bottle and curiously watched Bobrov who gulped down the liquor at a draught, and shuddered.

“Is anything eating you, my child?” asked Andreas, looking earnestly into Bobrov’s eyes.

“Yes.” Bobrov shook his head dolefully.

“Gnawing at your heart?”

“Yes.”

“Humph! Then you’ll want more.”

“Fill it,” said Bobrov, sadly submissive.

He guzzled cognac with disgust, trying hard to dull his pain. But, strangely enough, the liquor had not the least effect on him. In fact, he felt sadder as he drank, and tears burned his eyes more than ever.

Meanwhile the waiters passed champagne round. Kvashnin rose from his seat, holding his glass with two fingers and peering through it at the light of the high candelabrum. A hush fell. All that could be heard was the hissing of the arc lamps and the tireless chirring of a grasshopper.

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Heating a blast-furnace before operation to the melting point of ore, which is about 3,000° F. Sometimes it lasts several months. – Author’s note.

A limekiln is a man-high pile of lime-stone, kindled with wood or coal. The pile is heated for a week or so, till the lime-stone turns into quick-lime. – Author’s note .

In Russian the name Kasya is spelt with four letters, the last corresponding to ya. – Tr.