"But I fancy it's more in Volgarinov's hands," said Alexey
Alexandrovitch.
"Volgarinov has fully assented, as far as he's concerned," said
Stepan Arkadyevitch, turning red. Stepan Arkadyevitch reddened
at the mention of that name, because he had been that morning at
the Jew Volgarinov's, and the visit had left an unpleasant
recollection.
Stepan Arkadyevitch believed most positively that the committee
in which he was trying to get an appointment was a new, genuine,
and honest public body, but that morning when Volgarinov had--
intentionally, beyond a doubt--kept him two hours waiting with
other petitioners in his waiting room, he had suddenly felt
uneasy.
Whether he was uncomfortable that he, a descendant of Rurik,
Prince Oblonsky, had been kept for two hours waiting to see a
Jew, or that for the first time in his life he was not following
the example of his ancestors in serving the government, but was
turning off into a new career, anyway he was very uncomfortable.
During those two hours in Volgarinov's waiting room Stepan
Arkadyevitch, stepping jauntily about the room, pulling his
whiskers, entering into conversation with the other petitioners,
and inventing an epigram on his position, assiduously concealed
from others, and even from himself, the feeling he was
experiencing.
But all the time he was uncomfortable and angry, he could not
have said why--whether because he could not get his epigram just
right, or from some other reason. When at last Volgarinov had
received him with exaggerated politeness and unmistakable triumph
at his humiliation, and had all but refused the favor asked of
him, Stepan Arkadyevitch had made haste to forget it all as soon
as possible. And now, at the mere recollection, he blushed.