“In the N. regiment the society of the officers is a thousand times worse than it is here,” he continued.  “I hope that it is saying a good deal; J’ESPERE que c’est beaucoup Dire; that is, you cannot imagine what it is.  I am not speaking of the yunkers and the soldiers.  That is horrible, it is so bad.  At first they received me very kindly, that is absolutely the truth; but when they saw that I could not help despising them, you know, in these inconceivably small circumstances, they saw that I was a man absolutely different, standing far above them, they got angry with me, and began to put various little humiliations on me.  You haven’t an idea what I had to suffer. [Footnote:  CE que j’ai EUA souffrir vous ne FAITES pas une IDEE.] Then this forced relationship with the yunkers, and especially with the small means that I had—­I lacked everything; [Footnote:  Avec Les petits MOYENS que j’avais, je MANQUAIS de Tout] I had only what my sister used to send me.  And here’s a proof for you!  As much as it made me suffer, I with my character, avec Ma FIERTE j’ai ECRIS A mon pere, begged him to send me something.  I understand how living four years of such a life may make a man like our cashiered Dromof who drinks with soldiers, and writes notes to all the officers asking them to loan him three rubles, and signing it, Tout A vous, Dromof.  One must have such a character as I have, not to be mired in the least by such a horrible position.”

For some time he walked in silence by my side.

“Have you a cigarette?” [Footnote:  “Avez-vous un papiros?”] he asked me.

“And so I stayed right where I was?  Yes.  I could not endure it physically, because, though we were wretched, cold, and ill-fed, I lived like a common soldier, but still the officers had some sort of consideration for me.  I had still some prestige that they regarded.  I wasn’t sent out on guard nor for drill.  I could not have stood that.  But morally my sufferings were frightful; and especially because I didn’t see any escape from my position.  I wrote my uncle, begged him to get me transferred to my present regiment, which, at least, sees some service; and I thought that here Pavel Dmitrievitch, qui est le fils de l’intendant de mon pere, might be of some use to me.  My uncle did this for me; I was transferred.  After that regiment this one seemed to me a collection of chamberlains.  Then Pavel Dmitrievitch was here; he knew who I was, and I was splendidly received.  At my uncle’s request—­a Guskof, vous savez; but I forgot that with these men without cultivation and undeveloped,—­they can’t appreciate a man, and show him marks of esteem, unless he has that aureole of wealth, of friends; and I noticed how, little by little, when they saw that I was poor, their behavior to me showed more and more indifference until they have come almost to despise me.  It is horrible, but it is absolutely the truth.