I had not announced my arrival to Stroeve,and when I rang the bell of his studio,on opening the door himself,for a moment he did not know me.Then he gave a cry of delighted surprise and drew me in.It was charming to be welcomed with so much eagerness.His wife was seated near the stove at her sewing,and she rose as I came in.He introduced me.

　　‘Dont you remember?’he said to her.‘Ive talked to you about him often.’And then to me:‘But why didnt you let me know you were coming?How long have you been here?How long are you going to stay?Why didnt you come an hour earlier,and we would have dined together?’

　　He bombarded me with questions.He sat me down in a chair,patting me as though I were a cushion,pressed cigars upon me,cakes,wine.He could not leave me alone.He was heartbroken because he had no whisky,wanted to make coffee for me,racked his brain for something he could possibly do for me,and beamed and laughed,and in the exuberance of his delight sweated at every pore.

　　‘You havent changed’,I said,smiling,as I looked at him.

　　He had the s......